Fear Not
by Soul of Ashes
Summary: Sequel to Wire and Rain. Sephiroth must serve Hikaru in order to save Ansem...but is Hikaru bluffing? And will the worlds be truly safe?
1. The Willing Servant

Author's Notes: Sephiroth and Ansem, Riku, Sora, and other characters of Kindgom Hearts belong to their respective owners. Dion and Vax are my own creation... and I will further note original characters of my own creation as they come along...

This is a sequel to Wire and Rain. I was getting to the point in the story that the title was unfitting for the continuation of the story... so this will take on after Hikaru leaves Sephiroth on the island to his insanity, after Dion and Vax find each other, and after the Door in Northern Tarbina was closed and the Heartless receded.

There will be little Heartless in this sequel... the reason being is because I find it more interesting to have real thinking people as bad guys rather than mindless, hungry creatures... cunning mind-screwing cynical entities are more frightening than thoughtless beasts. ^_~

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Fear Not...

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Snow alighted on the blushing cheek of spring in the bitter north of Dion's world. With spring came renewel and rebirth. Many fortunate souls returned once more to inhabit their appointed bodies and continued to thrive as anything embodying energy should. 

The twins' mother met them in the hospital with shriveled health, bony arms, and bright joyous eyes. The rest of her had diminished, but wherever her soul had went did not. They never again left her side, and to them their time was joyous. 

She did not question Dion's possession of the magical pistols. She embraced her boys with a strong and unwaning strength that they had both missed. Their tears gave her flesh a strange gleaming liveliness to it, a testament to the final truth that they had survived the Heartless.

A lesson was learned as well among the peoples of this rebuilding realm. To work together, to realize that each other's strengths could overcome the other's weaknesses. The twins' story was overwhelmed in the maelstrom of activity which constituted the shutting down of the field that kept magic from tainting their industrial paradise. But slowly their names were brought up in conversation, and hundreds of people every week came to see how they were doing, to give them gifts, and thank them.

Dion himself was asked many questions, from both grateful citizens and very curious high officials of the Order of World Peace. But most of his time he spent inside he and his brother's bedroom, or trying to make up for his lost studies from school.

The exact opposite of his brother, he was studious and responsible. Never again would he let himself shy away from his responsibilities and abandon reason to despair. He felt he had succeeded somehow... and that Vax had always proven himself better in more ways than one.

* * * * *

In another world, uncountable distances away, lunacy reigned supreme in an innocent world of light. While weeks had passed in the other world, time passed differently here. Only a day passed... and Hikaru was not to be seen.

The branches dug into his sides as he leaned against the tree. But he had treaded these forbidden jungle paths too long to let their harsh jagged limbs bother him. His head craned to the side, watching the red-haired girl and her friends play a complicated game with the ball provided by a spunky boy with a bandana around his head.

His serpentine eyes of ocean-azure followed the motion of the ball as they played soccer. The red-haired girl coached, her voice calling out as she saw things called "fouls" and "goals". A tentative pink tongue removed itself, passed slowly over thin, cracked lips, which then transformed into a crooked smile. 

He touched his throat, and swallowed. He was thirsty. Hunger tugged in his stomach painfully, pulling away piece by piece of his resistence. He could eat fruit and things all he wanted... but he couldn't have meat. It was not difficult to catch the birds, for he was more cunning and swift than they. But somehow, when he caught them and their life trickled away in his terrible grasp, he always released them. The way they squirmed terrified him, bading him to release.

Sephiroth's fingers rubbed his throat, and he swallowed as he tore his eyes away. Would he reveal himself to them? Or would he starve himself into lunacy and try to devour them as though they were innocent beasts?

"So hungry..." he whispered hoarsely, and turned his face up to the canopy.

"So it's obvious," the chilling voice said with amusement. "And thirsty... you must be in turmoil. Madness, hunger... what an awful pair to contend with."

Sephiroth's feral instinct sent him into a snarling crouch. For once, he felt the inclinaton to murder with his bare hands... the thought that went hand-in-hand with the destruction of Hikaru and the redemption of his loss of Ansem. _"You put this suffering on me... so you should know!!"_

Hikaru bent forward, reaching out to caress the feverish cheek of Sephiroth with a low chuckle. "What's the matter? Do you want to see Ansem or not?"

The touch sent cold chills to Sephiroth's gut... suddenly he wasn't hungry. There was a cruel, devilish affection in that sort of touch and he tore away. Then his heart was in his throat, and he responded, _"Ansem... Ansem? See him!?"_

"Yes... but you're hungry... why don't we eat first?" The hooded man stepped forward and caught Sephiroth's wrist in his grasp... and the islands melted away from his senses, replaced by nauseating vertigo--

During this time, he lost consciousness. He thought he dreamed. But perhaps not. In swirling fits of insanity, he heard an indistinct cackling that filled the chambers of his mind. It continued, ceaselessly, hammering into his brain until seemed to be the only thing, the loudest sound, he could hear...

* * * * *

When he could think somewhat coherently again, he was awake. The room was small and quaint, though odd abstract paintings were hung on the walls. It hurt his head to stare at them, so he focused on the simple objects he thought he'd never see again.

The door to the room was open, and after looking for a long time he saw a person walk past it. Followed by another, so swiftly there were only shadows to his eyes.

He sat up slowly, looking at the open door and waited for another shadow to pass. He rubbed his eyes, saw nothing. Then he spread his hands over the bedspread that covered him, noted the fine details in the quilt. 

Most tantalizing aromas suddenly filled his nostrils, and as he breathed deep he was keenly aware of a pain in his stomach. Thoughtlessly, he threw the quilt aside and stood up, moving out to the door to the hallway. One wall comprised of fine oak and more paintings; the other of windows which spilled in bright, blinding sunlight, so much that he couldn't see the bright world beyond it. He stayed close to the wall with doors, raising his arm to shield his eyes while he followed the scent of food.

He found the door. It stood cracked open, the doorknob made of shining glass. At first he was afraid to enter... but to him, this might have been a dream. A wildly maddening dream... but the twisting in his gut felt very real all the same and he reached out. The door flew open before he could touch it, startling him backwards as a man in a chef's suite swept out into the hallway, turned right, pushing a cart of goodies in front of him.

He bit his tongue when he stumbled, and he held his jaw, suppressing a growl of frustration. His watering mouth did not make the pain easier... but it was easily forgotten. For now the door was wide open, and the scents seemed to physically pull him through the door into the clattering, loud world of a kitchen. 

Steam billowed from a number of places, and chefs moved here and there, bearing plates or bowls or bloodied knives. He swallowed heavily, dizzy by the new sounds, before he righted himself and slinked along the right wall, searching for something to eat. Regardless of whether or not his presence was desirable, Sephiroth was starving, and woe to any man in white who wished to tell him otherwise.

A tray of meats was left carelessly to Sephiroth's pickings. He moved toward it, and reached out, swiping a handful and eating them. He heard a sharp voice, snapping in some foreign language, but it was unmistikable - this cook was unhappy. 

"Look, I'm hungry, and I don't know where I am... I just got here!!" Sephiroth hissed, and backed away, his stomach roaring for more of the sweet meat that had graced to slide over his tongue down his throat.

The chef waved a spatula at him, his eyes flashing angrily from beneath the humorously flopping brim of his hat. Sephiroth eyed the spatula and the bits of grease that flew from it. 

Suddenly he felt a hand drop to his shoulder and a voice, soothing and reassuring, speak to the chef in the same tongue that the chef was chattering in. When the chef had listened, his expression relaxed and he was stunned silent. Then he turned, snatched up the tray, and shoved it into Sephiroth's arms.

"It's alright," the man behind him said, laughing softly. "Andre understands now. You can have all of them if you like."

Sephiroth turned, recognizing the devil Hikaru at once and hissed. Meanwhile, he plucked another delicate meat from the tray and devoured it. Hikaru wore an attire otherworldy... even more odd than what Sephiroth had seen of the previous worlds. Silk night blue pants adorned his legs, but it seemed infinitely tied to the sleeveless tunic he wore, which was comprised of a number of black and white ribbons that secured the front shut, and came together to wind around his waist. 

Sephiroth also wore a similar outfit, except that his was not silk but soft, substantial cotton and there were no ribbons. And his tunic was not apart of his pants. Matching black and silver slippers came with the oriental style pants.

"Surprised? I had thought you stronger to endure the trip... but perhaps not. But then... maybe you haven't traveled in deep space before," Hikaru went on, hardly phased by the look of death the silver-haired man sent his way. "Are you going to eat those or not? There is a cabin already set up for you... that one was temporary."

"Where are we?" Sephiroth demanded. He put the tray aside, his head pounding with the sounds of the kitchen. He tried to concentrate on Hikaru. His eyes blurred and he leaned against a wooden counter, and found the scars of knives on it most fascinating.

Hikaru took the tray, then took his arm. "Come on, please, you're being quite ridiculous, you know... There is so very much to learn." The last phrase was spoken with somewhat of amusement, as though it held special meaning only for him. 

They left the kitchen with its steam, chattering and loud intrusive sounds. Their feet were soundless on the navy blue carpeted floor. Sephiroth once again shielded his eyes, unable to remember which way he had come in order to reach the kitchen. He became aware, however, of a dull humming that permeated from the very walls.

Hikaru opened a door, and shouldered into it. Inside, it was silent and the humming merely a distant memory. Gone were the abstract paintings. A broad four-poster bed stood perpendicular to the door against the wall. A dresser and mirror, carved exquisitely of cherry oak with golden handles and exotic mammals etched into the frame of the mirror stood near the window, whose lace curtains were open. 

Hikaru put the tray aside on a small round wooden table with two matching chairs. He forced Sephiroth to sit and pulled out the second chair.

"Hikaru--"

"Eat."

Silently they sat, Hikaru's eyes closed, his chin rested in his hand as he folded one leg over the other in a strange mocking elegance that Sephiroth found intriguing but yet repulsive. Such a monster couldn't possibly be so poised or polite at all. Unless he wanted something.

When he was finished, he was still hungry but he didn't complain. His hunger moved now to answers. "Now... where are we?" 

Hikaru moved suddenly, as though he'd just been startled out of thinking. He took the tray and set it elsewhere as he uncrossed his legs. "Someplace nice. I figured you needed a change from the wilderness... I wonder, has the madman noticed how clean he is?" The man laughed out loud, leaned back and gripped the edge of the table with a smirk. 

Sephiroth blinked in confusion. Then he realized he _was _clean. How this came about didn't interest him, unless Hikaru cleaned him off himself. Somehow, he had a feeling he didn't. He brushed his hands through his long hair and found Hikaru still smirking at him.

"I want to know what world we're in. Right now. If you don't know, then this place... this building! What is it?"

"If you couldn't tell by the ungodly number of windows, take a guess," Hikaru said boredly, sighing in frustration. "Nevermind. I will tell you. It's an airship."

"Airship?"

"The boy learns. Listen, I don't have time to answer too many questions. I have an appointment. So ask quickly."

"Why have you brought me here, Hikaru?"

"The question is.. why were you in Destiny Islands. Well... to be honest, I needed to keep you someplace so I could prepare something for you... Ansem, for example..."

"Ansem!?" Sephiroth stood up, and growled as his hands slammed down on the table. "_DAMNIT, IF YOU DON'T TAKE ME TO HIM RIGHT NOW--_"

"STOP." Hikaru stood up, and leaned forward, pressing his face toward his, his yellow eyes flashing with equal rage. "Stop, or you WON'T see him... I'll let you... but you must do all that I demand, or your precious Ansem shall suffer all the more for every moment you disobey." 

"Take me to him now."

"You test my patience."

"My ass. Show him to me."

The dark creature hissed, before he turned away, flicking his hair out of his face with a dismissive motion. "Fine..."

Then he held out his hand. A sphere grew above it... larger and large until it was nearly the size of a basketball. Sephiroth approached it cautiously, seeing shapes swirling and melting. And there, in the shadow depths he saw Ansem bound and unconscious in shadows, asleep and dreaming like a child. 

No.. he _was_ a child.

A whisper like dead leaves passed into Sephiroth's ear as Hikaru brushed his hand over the image and clarified it, bringing Ansem closer to view. His hair was disheveled, his nose bloodied but he seemed othewise unharmed if not.

"If you help me, Sephiroth," the man crooned lovingly, leaning his head on the transfixed Sephiroth's shoulder. "If you remain calm and reasonable... we can go rescue him together... but you must do _everything _I ask of you..."

A featherlight brush of mouth stole Sephiroth's attention. He jerked away, the sphere disintegrating while Hikaru stood and watched him with amusement. The satisfied gleam in his gaze sent chills down Sephiroth's spine and he felt a foreboding fear begin to rise, choking off all ideas of murder and madness.

"_Everything,_" Hikaru punctuated finally before he turned and left through the door.


	2. The Golden Dragon

**Author's Notes**: This chapter is about.... yay! Ansem!! We all miss him and love him so much... and when was the last time I wrote for him? Like... a gazillion chapters ago? So..let me see if I can't get into the Ansem Mood...

Also, I hope those of you who have been reading don't get turned off by the fact that I split the story into two parts... It's just the title of the first part was getting old and I figured it was getting long and boring enough..but I SWEAR this one will be better!!

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The Golden Dragon

When Ansem found his own body again, and felt feeling tingle into his arms and legs again, he felt as though he was 15 years old again, growing up in the echoing chambers of Hollow Bastion, asleep in his own bed with crimson sheets about him. His studies beckoned to him from the Library with its towering books and enormous halls, and dizzying heights from the main gates. The Rising Falls roared below them, a constant sound that provided all something to listen to other than the howling wind that snapped the banners caught high in the sharply jutting towers.

He walked to the Library, finding his way to where he stashed his favorite book at the time, a miraculous legendary species of dragons that was little known to these parts. He cracked open to the page he had marked with an oak leaf. He licked his lips in the dream, and read on about the golden dragon - the supreme, daughter of Tiamat, whose beauty and ferocity were unmatched only by Tiamat herself, who lay dormant in the cusp of the universe.

Then the dream shattered like a window, revealing the endless void beyond... a terrifying emptiness that made him shut his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, his senses told him he was warm... but he was not wrapped in blankets, nor in a soft comfortable bed. Instead, Ansem was on a harsh stone floor. But the difference between the last waking were the significant amount of clothing he wore now. 

A heavy pair of warm, soft sweatpants that were long enough to cover his feet, and a sweatshirt of the same that covered his hands. He could see nothing beyond the wall of black wood. There was a door - but it was locked when he tried it. And there was also a small, rectangular-shaped window. When he moved toward it, the angle at which he could see through it suddenly slashed his sight with light.

It hurt for several seconds, and after awhile his eyes adjusted. Beyond his little room was a startlingly crisp, clear rolling field, each hill sweeping farther into the distance than the last, toward a common, forest-lined horizon. Each detail to him seemed as clear as it would be in a painting, and like a painting in perspective the details blurred but only as much as the artist would allow. The very sky appeared to be a most iridescent, gorgeous azure blue.

He pinched himself, foolishly thinking he was dreaming. The pain felt very real and shocked his nerves as sharply as ever the dreamland beyond his window did. 

Then he felt thoughts of a strange man, silver-hair, tormented aquamarine eyes. It filled him with a terrible longing... so palpable and irresistible he found himself unable to enjoy the limited landscape he saw outside. 

"I think... he'll get along without me... I saved his life, he escaped through the Door... I know he was strong enough to get through to the other side. It's not as though Sephiroth is weak..." He clapped a hand over his throat, alarmed at the sound of his voice. He coughed. "What...?"

"S-SCRAWWK!!" The window was suddenly dominated by a flapping creature, screaming and harping alarm like a siren. 

Stumbling on his ever-so-lengthened sweatpants the young Ansem staggered away from the window, seeing an angular, serpentine head push its way through the window, a foot in width and four feet tall. Thin, protective lids slid away from the outer eyes which flashed a bloody red. The thing turned its head to look at him and opened its mouth, uttering a high-pitched trill.

Ansem scrambled back until his shoulderblades smacked against the wall. He shivered slightly, stunned without words and without action. What was he to make of this?! Waking up in a room, with a locked door and a single open window and now a yellow-red lizard squawking at him, he was absolutely stupefied.

Finally the creature freed its crested head from the window and pulled away with a heavy roar of flapping wings. He watched the red-gold scales glitter in the light, faint sheen on the fragile membrane between the miniscule bones that made up the wings. He swallowed, rubbing his eyes before drawing his knees up to his chest.

After a moment's pause, he croaked sadly, "What in god's name has happened to me...?"

* * * * *

Waiting was a game easily gotten used to when one had nothing to do. Ansem continued to watch for the golden dragon to return, maybe hoping in vain that he could charm it into breaking down the wall so he could escape. 

He was beginning to draw on the walls with a piece of chalky stone he found after the encounter with the golden dragon when the door opened. The sun had moved into his line of sight and was falling into the horizon for sunset when he heard the door clank metallically. 

The sliding bar lock pushed to one side; the door opened. A woman stood there, shifting her weight to one foot while leaning her hand on her hip. Her hair was short and bristled to puncuated spikes, a pixie-esque look about her cold, important-looking face. She wore a soft leather outfit of brown, studded with bronze here and there, and a long green cloak that swept to the floor. 

The woman reminded him of the plainsmen-and-women of Hollow Bastion, a distant and cold-hearted people who relied not on community but solitude to survive in the rough, unpredictable grasslands. 

But this woman did not have the sun-bleached hair of the plains people. A pair of daggers dangled in sheaths at her hips.

"Get up," she ordered. "It's time to get your things together."

"My things?" 

"Don't ask any questions!" She lashed forward with her arm outstretched, yanking him roughly to his feet. A measured string of curses permeated from behind the backs of her teeth as she began to herd him into the corridor. "Just do as I say."

Ansem couldn't struggle, for one thing, he was a whole foot shorter than this tall woman. For another, he had no idea where he was going but where her shoving directed him to go. The torches along the walls were lit, their warm flames vibrant, playful shadows catering to every flicker of the blaze. They marched out through a set of broad, arching doorways made of oak and stone, where a brisk breeze tousled Ansem's shoulder-length white hair.

The stone scaffolding was approximately 10 yards wide and 5 yards long, a stair case heading down toward an open street flanked by buildings for some stretch of distance. This street was crowded with people and creatures such as nothing he had ever seen before. Two-legged creatures covered in sturdy hexagonal-shaped scales, bent beneath their burdens with their two forelegs tucked up against their ribs slightly. Their narrow, wedge-shaped skulls reminded him of the golden dragon that came to his window.

In fact, after observing them for a brief inspection, he saw what appeared to be small, thin wings protruding from their backs. An instant later, he discovered himself crowded by the green wool cloak and shoved into a smokey warm space. There, the woman pushed him down into a chair and tossed him new clothes.

"Now put these on," she said. "From now on, you're going to be called Wren and you'll do everything I say. My name is Raven." 

He blinked up at her, his golden-yellow eyes focusing in the darkness. It was a plain, homey room that felt as though he were no longer in a stone village but a woodland hamlet. His eyes then swiveled back to the woman called Raven who turned her back to tighten the straps of a back sack. 

"Where am I?" he croaked as he stepped out of the long pants and started sliding on the warm leather pants that she had provided. "And my name is not Wren! I am Ansem."

"You are Wren. And you will find that those will not fit, since you have changed already..." She looked over at him, smirking as he held up the pants to himself. 

He seemingly had grown years older in a matter of moments. How or why was beyond him. But he was himself again, his hair down to the middle of his back, his hard masculine features erasing all of his boyhood from his body. He sighed as Wren turned, handing him yet another set of clothes to put on.

"You are Wren," she said softly, turning back to the bag again. "Ansem cannot exist in this world. The name Ansem is never spoken because you are the one responsible for the death this land's native king. They say you brought unheard of evils in your wake."

Always, always, my destiny precedes me before I have a chance to know what's going on. But how...? I wasn't whole. I was just a spirit... maybe... the Heartless followed me... 

Ansem bit his lip, sliding into the new pants, which were much more comfortable than the previous. He slipped on the shirt, the belt, the cloak, and hugged himself as his mind was filled with flashing, sweet warm memories of the azure-eyed beauty whom he had felt longings for older than he knew.

"I don't know what you're telling me... but there is only one thing I care about, and that is finding the person I love." He stood up, watching as the tall woman straightened, looking at him with an unnerving bright blue gaze. Her thoughts seemed to flicker in phases over her face before she smiled.

"Love is always noble... if not a little deranged at times... I will help you. But you must promise to listen and learn. You're a stranger yet in this world, but you look the type to learn quick. Do you agree?"

"I agree," Ansem replied slowly. "Only on one condition: I will obey you, but you must help me search for my companion. I will not tolerate lies and deceit. If you do, I won't hesitate to kill you..."

Raven considered this for a time... then her hand came forward, the universal sealing of a deal. "So it shall be. Now..." She turned, smiling slowly as she reached to pull a from a curtained off room. "I want to you meet someone... say hello, Vara."

Ansem watched an agile, lithe form slowly uncurl itself from a bed of what appeared to be metal. A golden wedge-shaped head turned in his direction coupled with intelligent red-rimmed eyes. A voice like soft sunlight drifted across his thoughts, like the beam of a flashlight had uncovered the cob webbed recesses of his psychic mind.

Hello, Ansem; Wren. I am Varafel, dragon of Raven. Then with a rustle of glossy wings she removed herself slowly from the bed of chains and came to stand beside Raven, flicking her whip-like tail from side to side in a friendly, amiable fashion like feline's do.

"The dragon...I saw in the tower..."

"Yes," Raven said, reaching to rub the ridge above Varafel's eye. "I sent her to look for you while I wandered in the streets. She found you in the tower... that's how I found you."

I scared you, Farafel said with a plaintive note of sadness. _I am sorry. I will not frighten you again, Ansem. _

"It's..quite alright," he responded, reaching back to rub the back of his neck.

The three of them set themselves at once to making plans for travel.


	3. Paradise

Author's Notes: Sephiroth needs to be more evil. I keep thinking about how he's...going crazy... and that that should always stay..hee... And listening to Simple and Clean (Full English vers.) is always a good inspiration.

Another time, another chapter...

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Paradise

The airship, called the _Paradise _had a total of three levels, and fourth sub-level for boarding and storage reasons. The world passed beneath them through a screen of clouds and mist, the sun rising higher into the sky and setting again on the opposite side of the Paradise's hull. Hallways lined the port and starboard sides of the airship, which led to narrower hallways sometimes which led to cabins or the galley, which was on the mid-level. 

Only two pairs of eyes watched the sky reveal its multitude of indigo blues and shimmering silk scarves of violet. Sephiroth stood on the deck, leaning against the railing with his new clothes billowing back like great dark wings in the wind. He stood against the bow, watching as the sun painted the surrounding scarves ruby with blood. Brilliant crimson leaked into his vision, fading as the golden orb of the sun sank into the distance, revealing the glittering, alien heavens above. 

As this was his third world to have visited, he mused privately whether or not it was homesickness he felt twisting in his chest or a palpable loneliness which was only strengthened whenever Hikaru lingered too close, dreading the moment when Hikaru's false 'kindness' would win him over.

Then he would think of Ansem. The truth was kept from him in all subjects including Ansem's true location, Hikaru's intentions, and if he would ever chance to see him again. And if Hikaru was telling the truth... to what lengths would Sephiroth allow himself to stretch toward to get Ansem back?

His scalp tingled strangely. He pondered over it, then sighed as the sensation continued. He bent his head to the warmth, this stranger's invisible caress, and imagined that Ansem was here at last. In some shape, way or form... the beating of his heart was ever as stronge and resonant as it had been when he held him close. _Ansem, Ansem..._ The here-and-now promised more caresses and like the bow his body veered toward the source of this new comfort, his sigh purring against his throat.

"So sad," a voice next to his ear purred drowsily. "Sad... so empty..." The words caressed like the hands that tugged gently through his hair, stopping at his lips to cup his chin and scratch a fingernail along the edge of his jaw.

His jaw muscle bulged faintly, nerve endings tickled. His eyes burned as he found himself staring into sickly, liquid-yellow eyes and inky black pupils that flashed momentarily with lightning as recognition began to seep through his drowsy thoughts.

He was cornered with his hips jammed up into V-shaped where the port and starboard railing came together. His gaze couldn't escape Hikaru's, as he was pinning him inexorably between his own lithe, firm legs and the bow. 

"Why do you linger over him so much, man?" Hikaru's mouth breathed against the side of his neck. "Does he fill you with that much goodness?"

"Because I love him." Sephiroth raised his arms, trying to push his hands against Hikaru; he wouldn't budge. "I love--"

"Love me," the other man interrupted softly, punctuating his plea with a soft bite, laughing softly over the twitching skin. "Forget him!"

The roar echoed, wrathful like a demon as Sephiroth shoved the heel of his boot into Hikaru's torso and shoved him to the deck. He stepped over him, eyes blazing in the reflected starlit. 

"I couldn't love you or forget Ansem under any circumstances, you wretched sniveling bastard," Sephiroth hatefully sneered. "Don't touch me like that _ again._ How many times must I remind you?"

"You agreed to do anything I wanted, in order to get him back," Hikaru wheezed as he stood up, watching Sephiroth as the man briskly strided past toward the cabin doors. "We _did _make a deal, didn't we...?"

Slowed steps. Sephiroth stiffened and jerked a thumb toward the direction of the cabins. "Earn it, like everyone else. You're just going to have to work a little bit harder for it. But I doubt it will happen. Deals have no warrant over my love. I'm going to sleep, and I don't want you coming any where near my cabin door. Understand?"

Hikaru smiled in a demure fashion, tilting his head a fraction upwards and bringing it down again in a slow, understanding nod. "Don't worry," he promised softly. "I won't."

Sephiroth shut his door lightly when he came to his cabin. He strode to the window, flung the curtains open so hard that one of the rings fell loose and one edge of the curtain dangled, dragging to the floor. He cut a brooding silhouette against the moon-filled glass window. He knew he wouldn't sleep very easily tonight... would never sleep easily again, not since his first coherent thought in his mother's womb.

He remembered... drifting back into foggy memory, knowing Hikaru would keep to his promise and stay away from his room. Just moments before oblivion, the blackness of the mountains bowels, recalling his first breath straight through to his last few.

Mama, I tried so hard--

....I...just...couldn't....

Can anyone... save me? Please, god, forgive me... no holy waters can cleanse me of my sins but the Life which is the vital flow of the Planet... those burning depths could destroy a mind... but mine is already past the point of no redemption. My heart is black, burnt, empty, shrunk, withered...

You told me we would take the Planet back together. Promised me we would succeed. Then I promised you I would protect and serve and love you, always, always, forever, mother, so why can't.. you save...me...?

He remembered he was cold. Remembered the ultimate cold, the vice of death clutching at his throat and stealing his breath, his ability to think. His last pleas descended toward oblivion in silence, before he ever felt warmth again. And then, it was not the warmth of a fire or an electric heater or blanket. It was flesh, wrapping around his own, moist and tangible and beautiful. The thing that all things that have wills to live and survive which bring them to maddened thrashing, roaring and defiance at bitter Death.

He tried to remember. Chilled fingertips squeaked on the windowpane while visions and faces tumbled before his eyes, each one vying for a space in his view. He groaned aloud as he turned from the window, moving toward the bed where he crawled onto it on all fours like an exhausted animal, arms and back quivering with weariness.

"It was you," he said to no one. "It was all you... you that gave me hope... showed me light, pressed it to me stubbornly so that I might forget how darkness molested my reason. Then you're gone... then I've found you, now you're gone again." He growled against the inside of his elbow as he sprawled out onto his stomach.

"But guess what... I'm going to find you again... I won't let everything be in vain. That is... if...Hikaru will live up to his promise and help me do it." A knock announced a visitor at the door, and he stood up to answer it. It was a short, squat little man in a sailor's suit, holding up a long package, wrapped in an off-white towel and bound by string.

"Your sword, as requested, sir!"

"I didn't request a sword..." Sephiroth frowned, but the package was thrust into his arms and the short individual turned, bouncing along as he jogged to yet another errand.

Sephiroth frowned, arching a brow as he shut the door with his foot, turning simultaneously toward his bed. It was a fine weapon... he had lost his when he entered Kingdom Hearts. 

It was 45 inches in length, curved in the accustomed style, with a respectable leather grip and a peculiar balance that felt natural and easy to manuever. The sheath for it was just as well, which could be tied around the waistline with black, pliant cloth.

"You know," Sephiroth said, "I don't much mind if it Hikaru sent for this for me... I'll need weapons..."

* * * * *

Varafel angled her wings, turning sharply toward the two-story houses that bent studiously on the banks of a river, as though each one were peering into the water hoping to catch sight of any fish that wanted to leap out of it. The way the sun flashed on the lazy-moving surface made her pleased; so pleased, in fact, that she shook her bristling crest of spikes and roared in happiness.

Ansem stood, wearing his cloak and clothes, trying to make sense of what Raven was teaching him.

"Think of them as bullets," she explained, holding up the various colored stones. "You can only use them once before they are useless to you until the spirits recharge them again. Each one has a color, and a little symbol on them - I will teach you symbols later, but for now just basics."

Blue stones had within them the power of cold and water. Green were curative and good. And so on and so forth... 

Ansem scowled. How was he supposed to use magic like this?

Raven chewed her lip, before reaching into a pouch at her side, fishing out a number of small stones. "Here. Just use these. They're all the same, anyway. The blue ones are ice, the purple ones are for lightning, and green ones for curing. I'll explain more tomorrow."

He pocketed them, roiling with his frustration. "How does any of this help me find Sephiroth?"

"You have to defend yourself, fool," she answered coldly. "Even I don't have to explain that to you. Quickly, now, Varafel is coming."

The golden dragon swooped down, circling momentarily before slowly, with carefully measured backward swinging of wings, she set down on the river bank. With a light rolling of her shoulders, her wings flipped, inverted, to lay along the sides of her back, wingtips brushing over her jutting hip-spikes. 

"What did your keen eyes see, beauty?" Raven cooed, her demeanor suddenly changing from one of annoyance to one of total patience, adoration and love. 

Ansem folded his arms over his chest, watching her. Varafel had been sent to scout in the skies for any sign of something unusual, and answered with this alarming news.

There is something large and unliving in the sky, but it has smaller living things like you and friend hiding inside. It was moving very fast, northeastwardly toward Menoch. Now it's stopped.

"Something... large and unliving. It could be a plane."

"A what?"

"Nevermind. Or an airship. Don't mind that either. You obviously don't know what she means or what I think it is. If it's moving toward Menoch then maybe we should follow it. Is it nearby?"

On the ground. West. Follow me.

Ansem's stomach lurched slightly, but he steeled himself against it. Varafel was a large dragon, but not even large enough to hold even one person his size. Raven turned on her heel as the golden dragon spun about on one leg and raced forward, as fast as any land-moving animal, her long legs carrying her swiftly. Her gait reminded him of a greyhound trotting, except her tail was a greater asset for balance as she jumped to one side to avoid a cart of fruits.

He ran with them, trailing behind once or twice. Suddenly Varafel took to the air, snapping her teeth together sharply as she sprang upwards. She vanished one second; the grasslands were particularly thick here, countless crickets chirping. Raven crouched, watching the winged shape sweep her wings, then drop beyond sight again over a tall grass knoll. 

Ansem continued on without her, moving slowly as he neared the top. 

It is landed still.

The sleek ship's design was unbelievably modern. He saw the logo on it, which was a symbol that resembled an ankh with a sword through it. The billowing balloon was gray, the hull shining white-blue that flashed like silver. Several strategically placed propellers spun lazily to his eyes, but beneath the airship the grass swayed and quivered in the force of wind. Beneath the logo, the word _Paradise _was written in curving, sensual blue letters.

A shiver meandered down his spine, toying with each vertabra until he squirmed in spite of himself. He had a feeling... such a powerful, tangible feeling... a distinct knowledge that he knew, he _knew _Sephiroth was there.

He was walking toward the airship before he recalled making any sort of decision. He didn't care. Raven was forgotten. Varafel swooped twelve feet above him, uttering a shrill, discordant noise of alarm as she saw him making his way down the leeward side of the knoll toward the idle craft.


	4. Revelation

Revelation

-------------

"Hikaru!" Sephiroth screamed, lunging away from the dragon's teeth as its wings unfurled, snapping forward with their deafening roar. He saw the pale blue throat underneath the jaw as the dragon struggled to find footing on the hull of the ship. Sephiroth himself kept from falling merely by the piece of rope he clung to that trailed up, tied to the deck hooks used to tie down cargo.

The wind buffeted both he and the dragon about like a cat who tossed its prey about, no mercy intended. His wrist burned, his hand grew numb as the rope toiled and scraped and chafed into his wrist until it bled. Still the dragon fought, tangled in its own rope, dangling from one hind leg as its wings smacked against the hull - and his body as well.

"Hikaru!!!" he roared again, struggling against the dragon, seeing its life flashing wildly through its fire-framed eyes, furious and afraid, fearing Death and tasting its bite through the fire-treated rope that twisted ever tighter around its foot, preventing it from getting away. In this helpless state, suspended over the whirling blades of the airship, the dragon became a massive hurricane of blind terror.

The white-haired stranger flipped over the railing with a bared blade, hanging from the hand that clutched the railing as he hacked at the rope, furiously, diligently. A new pain throbbed in Sephiroth's mind, the pain of the dragon's thoughts as it raged, swirling masses of color and emotion as terrible as any serpent's fiery breath.

Sephiroth!

He turned his head, his eyes widening as the voice seared through the maelstrom like the friendly beam of a lighthouse. Suddenly the rope snapped like the sound of a tree-trunk cracking just next to his ear and the dragon shrieked, loosed, and plumeted to the spinning blades.

Hikaru caught his hand and pulled, grunting with effort as the wind pulled his cloak out behind him. Sephiroth turned, pushing himself up over the railing, and grimaced as he rubbed his wrist. But before he did anything else, he peered over the railing, and saw the dragon spread its membranous wings in time, gliding unsteadily, one of its wings clipped by a propeller. Then it vanished from sight neath the keel, never to be seen again.

Hikaru climbed over, dusting himself off before sliding the dagger into the sheath at his thigh. Amusement poured forth from him with every word he said. "Now, what I want to find out," he said, "is why in god's name you were hanging off the side of the _Paradise _with an upside-down dragon."

"I was trying to save it," Seph answered tersely. "It flew in, got caught in the lines and I thought it would have been nice to cut it free."

Hikaru nodded. "You know... dragons in this world, they are two of many things. One of them is a partner to one human, a friend and companion that is your eyes and ears and companions. They're also vicious killers, when they lose their human... or if they're born in the wilderness."

"He didn't seem vicious. Just afraid."

The door to the corridor flung open to a tall man in a black suit, who strolled forward toward Hikaru. "What's going on? What in god's name just happened?"

"No damage to the vessel, captain, nothing to worry your pretty little head about." Crude, foul-mouthed, and badly fitted clothing scored a low cup of points in Sephiroth's book as he stared at the captain. But whatever the case, Sephiroth didn't care and turned toward another sound.

Sephiroth!

"Get back to your post, captain," Hikaru murmured, walking after Sephiroth. "Like a good grumpy old man. That's right." Swearing, the gruff-looking man hunkered his shoulders and mouthed obscenities and threats as he walked back inside. 

"What are you doing?" Hikaru demanded as Sephiroth wandered to the roped-off ladder. 

Distracted, the silver-haired man only shook his head. "I thought I heard something... Someone calling my name."

Hikaru opened his mouth to speak. The alarms of the craft cut him short, swallowing his words in the din of ringing bells and a constant, nasal-congestion sounding horn. Sephiroth twitched, looking around himself with a scowl, eyes blazing. "What the hell is going on _now?!_"

"It appears that what's going on is all the bells and whistles of the ship are going off," Hikaru said plainly, shaking his head with a smirk when Seph cast him a dirty look. 

"Something's wrong," he said, straining his ears... hearing an indistinct noise, like voices, arguing back and forth. Suddenly he flung himself down the ladder, climbing down even as the propellers whirred faster and faster to signify its prep for take-off. In the distance, beyond the violent roaring blades, the rising sun shed a somnolent shade of pink on the mountains and on the tributary choked valley below.

"No! Let go of me! They're going to take off, he's here!!"

"You don't know that!" The shrill voice was of a woman, desperate, determined to persuade the other speaker to listen. _"This...machine, whatever it is, it's not supposed to be here! I have never seen words like that before, or .. or anything the likes of this, ever! It's evil... it's tainted, you must-- NO!!"_

Sephiroth jumped from the last five rungs, landing awkwardly as he whirled to find the source of the voices. He found them almost at once; only because he saw a golden-red dragon shuffling uneasily, winged tucked against its lithe, deer-like frame with eyes casting about nervously.

Then, with the final piercing cry a man tumbled out from behind of the wheel of the airship. He yanked against the woman's hands, which clutched at his arm. He turned, sun-gold eyes filled with fire, and roared, "If you don't let go of me this instant, woman, the first thing I'll do when I return is cut off that pretty little braid of yours at the nap of your neck!! Then--"

"ANSEM!!" 

Sephiroth's knees weakened. A dizzying well of relief and disbelief and terror filled him at once, mixed with joy and elation unlike anything his body felt before. He staggered forward, his hair obscuring his eyes to see.

Ansem's head whipped around, his arm still caught in the vice-like grip of the woman, who, like some of the passengers he'd seen on the airship, appeared to be bred for rougher lifestyles in the wilderness. His mouth gaped open, his eyes twisted for a mere second on pain and the next moment flung himself at the man whom he had longed for since their inopportune parting.

The pair rushed in, crashing against each other with such force it made a dull thud that made the golden dragon wince and the rough-looking woman jerk backwards slightly. The men embraced tightly, Ansem hanging from Sephiroth's shoulders as he retrieved his footing and straightened, looking up, gripping his jaw with both hands. 

"It's you... is it you? It is?" Ansem murmured as he quaked within the comforting, familiar circle of the other man's arms. "I was searching for you... I felt you near."

"I felt you, too," Sephiroth said, dropping his head to his shoulder, his mouth beside his ear as he breathed. "I heard you... I came down to see if it was you... or if I was... If I was crazy." He wet his lips, ignorant of all else but Ansem. For nothing mattered. Except Ansem. 

"You're the Other?" Raven said from some distance away.

Suddenly Ansem noticed it had grown quiet. The propellers were all but slowly circling, each rotation slower than the last. He turned with Ansem, staring with intensified, white-hot hatred at Hikaru who stood flanked by a dozen soldiers. 

"Intruders," Hikaru said slowly in his light, drawling manner. "Intruders, and you were going to let them onto this sacred vessel, Sephiroth--" He tisked three times, laughing, "--so, I have but to arrest you all now. Get them!!"

Sephiroth drew the sword at once. In the meantime, Ansem retreated backwards, reaching into the pouch without thinking about it. He withdrew three blue stones, hearing Raven speaking rapidly. 

So that's how you do it...

His hands followed hers, described the spell for ice and at once, spikes of ice thrust out of the ground all about his enemies, slicing them in twain or impaling them effectively, suspended inches above the earth. 

Hikaru cursed profusely as he withdrew, drawing his own sword as Sephiroth dealt cold metallic death to the survivors, before standing in front of Hikaru. "You can die, sir... for all the trouble you've caused me, caused us all!"

"Who is that?" 

"Hikaru," the yellow-eyed devil answered. "A cruel little fiendish creature who is by no means an easy creature to kill. But, you, Sephiroth, Ansem, woman and dragon - have at it!"

There was a peculiar hesitation. Hikaru, in Sephiroth's mind, did not seem the type to just let them hack away at him. Sephiroth stood in poised stance, his limbs shaking slightly for no obvious reason. His eyes fell to the ladder, then flashed upward to Hikaru again. 

He lowered his sword.

"That's right," Hikaru murmured, smiling. "You don't want to kill me. I am the Key to the outside worlds and here, you are viewed as murderers. As we speak, there is a flight of winged serpents like your golden queen there searching and screaming for your blood."

"This is why I didn't want you to come here," Raven said in irritation and despair. "I knew he would be here... the true murderer. The bastard!! He framed you to keep you both in his control and now there's no getting away!"

Sephiroth sighed, tipping his head back. The only comfort now was the soft, clutching hand that slide its finger in between his. He turned toward Ansem half-way, staring at Hikaru with a bubbling, calculating loathing barely perceptible in his expression. Only in his eyes...

"Now come," Hikaru commanded as he would a common pet. "Come back up to the ship with me and we'll sort this out over breakfast and tea... shall we?"

With a flourish, Hikaru turned away from them all and started up the ladder in all swiftness, his cloak swirling in the faint breeze that drifted in the sun-warmed mountains and the sea beyond them.


	5. Hikaru's Obsession

Author Notes: Look... this is the chapter where Hikaru has his own say. There will be more... and in a way, his 'feeding' sort of reminds me of Soul Reaver and how Raziel feeds. Which is kind of how I wanted it. And yes... for all of you who are wondering... there is some lemony, brief love going on between Sephiroth and his lover, Ansem... *Watches as everyone scrolls aaall the way down to read the love scene..smirking.. she made it depressingly short.*

------------

Hikaru's Obsession

----------------

Hikaru thumbed the button on his jacket idly, watching in a glowing sphere as Sephiroth lay sprawled out on his bed alone. Ansem was with him, but of course slept in a seperate bed with an invisible, very tangible wall between them. Hikaru's creation. He couldn't bear to see them together. They were to remain apart at night. They could remain together, under Hikaru's physical and magical scrutiny. The _Paradise _moved through the clouds as he tapped the table in his cabin, gazing furiously into the globe, his yellow eyes flashing brilliantly. The silver-haired man's mouth moved. Sephiroth was speaking.

He wouldn't see them together. He would have liked to just kill Ansem. But Ansem couldn't die. He was important. But Sephiroth was also important. Important only to Hikaru... he obsessed with him, enjoyed the pleasurable game of toying with him. He would have had him by this time today if it weren't for Ansem's arrival.

He smirked softly, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned back. It wouldn't matter. Ansem would be delivered. The Essence would be pleased, as would all things good and evil, light and dark.

No longer would he bow to the will of the Essence. He would be a free soul. Feld, that self-righteous miserable bastard, was only a mold in which he could place himself. Since then, he became independent of his host and in essence Feld was eliminated. Hikaru took his place. He ruled... unleashed the Darkness into the first world. He alone controlled the Doors now, and held the fragile lives of Sephiroth and Ansem in the palm of his hand.

They had no idea what was beyond Hikaru. Sephiroth's hatred was amusing. The Essence couldn't care less if Sephiroth lived or died. It was Hikaru's servitude that took the edge out of the Essence's customary brutality and kept Sephiroth alive. By rights, the man should have long been dead the moment the last breath passed out of his body in his own world. But, by hook or by crook, Hikaru snatched his soul from the ethereal winds of the darkness and pulled him through in Between Space. 

There, he could only stand by as the Essence ordained Sephiroth's fate. The Heartless thrived there, beyond the reach of any Door or Keyblade, and hunger terribly and feast upon any spirit to wander into their midst. Bound to a wall by wire, in a realm where no sun shined - it always poured miserably. There, in the darkness, the Heartless fed and tore and devoured all that made Sephiroth a sentient thing. 

In a timeless space, Sephiroth's torment lasted for so long. Yet in Inner Space terms, his time spent would equal only about a day. Hikaru was never quite fond of Between Space. Never fond of what was done to Sephiroth for so long.

In one way, Hikaru loved to be hated and loathed. It made it more challenging to try to win your adversary over.

On the other hand... Hikaru ached to touch. To feel. Warmth. It was denied him, as his flesh wasn't entirely living either. He was the physical equivelent of stone - compromised only by his unique sensitivity. He never quite ate or drank, or produced hormones or anything of that nature. So how could he want those things anyway?

"I just do," he murmured lovingly, a pain striking a chord so deep inside his being it brought heat burning through his fingers and arms. "I want it... passionately. Your love...brave warrior. Hate me, but do it honestly... you can't deny what I want. Not for long. I'll have it, before our time runs out..."

After a moment, his jealousy abated. He sighed, letting the wall trickle away into nothing. Visibly, so they would notice. Hikaru was not by nature a very cruel man... not really. He'd let them have their time. Certainly they'd spent enough time apart. As he had predicted Sephiroth sat up, stood up, and moved suspiciously toward the other side of the room, his hand extended experimentally. Encountering no painful boundry, he spoke again.

Ansem moved into view. Before anything else was revealed, Hikaru thrust his hand out, knocking the sphere off the tables, watching it shatter on the floor into silver and gold sparks which vanished into smaller atoms, beyond view. Into nothing.

The pain was still there even though he had destroyed the vision of them. _ Why did I let them together? _Hikaru thought, clenching his hands, before knitting his fingers together, resting his chin against his thumbs. He stared at the wall, before he stood up. He was decided. That's right. He kept forgetting...

He'd get Sephiroth. Soon enough. But at the moment, he was hungry. He cracked his limbs slowly, taking a breath as he felt his body crumble and lose its shape and form as his spirit left it. The room tilted awkwardly, turning a faded tinge of blue-green so bright it was nearly blinding, like looking at a world carved purely out of moonstone. But as the light was bright, shadows were deep and many in between. 

The walls distorted, the furniture twisted into odd, grotesque shapes. He walked toward the door, passing through it with only an extension of his will. He felt the fibers of the door slide over his spiritual essence as though he not one whole solid thing but many smaller particles. These he manipulated, moving without being seen along the corridors of the Paradise.

He slipped purposefully into a cabin. There slept a harmless man, dozing on his bed in his day-clothes, dancing blue flames encircling his being that signified his living spirit. From the fabric and materials of the solid world, he gathered together the elements to create himself. From the air, the wood, the earth - they came to bring about his form. He filled it, drawing more and more until he stood, whole, clothed as before, with an unmistakable hunger gleaming in his eyes.

Hikaru glided to the bedside. His victim continued to sleep. His manifestation was a silent process, marked only by the faint white glow that surrounded him during the event. He clasped his left hand over his chest, before his left hand relaxed and moved over the oblivious sleeper.

A glow encompassed his fingers, trickling white-green powder falling and hissing softly through the clothes, into his flesh, seeking out hungrily that which Hikaru hungered for constantly. They attached themselves to the very cells of the man who slept, drawing out the vital energy. Unknowingly, the man yielded spirit stuff that filled Hikaru and preserved the mold of his essence for a longer period of time.

When he was through, the man was not living, nor dead. He was a husk. A living shell, an organism driven by no purpose or need. Death would come... swiftly, perhaps, well before dawn. In a sense, it was spiritual or psychic vampirism.

Maybe someday, they'll all understand... Sephiroth...Ansem... everyone who ever knew me. He smiled bitterly, tucking his arm across his chest and the other hand against his mouth as he shivered. 

Sephiroth... you will _belong to me... your cries will fall on deaf ears at the loss of your poor Ansem... so enjoy his bed while you still can..._

* * * * *

The truth was, Sephiroth and Ansem were not in the throes of passion. Sephiroth secured Ansem to him close, under a tent of blankets. They spoke in low voices, barely audible than a whisper but so close that they heard each other clearly. The dawn was a ways off yet. So was their judgement...

"We need to convince them somehow that you didn't kill that dragon," Ansem hissed, tugging at his shirt with a soft sigh. Then his eyes hardened, their golden depths blazing with fire. "It's that man's fault!"

"Hikaru," Sephiroth told him. "He's not the kind of person you wish to meet alone in an alley. He's got me stuck with him... well, he did, until you came along. Now we're _both _stuck."

"What about Varafel?"

"What?" Sephiroth blinked, turning to peer down into his face, clearly perplexed. "That woman?"

"No, the...the dragon. The golden one. They have her trapped but maybe if we rescued her and Raven, they could help us get loose."

"If we're caught, though..."

Ansem shushed him, tapping his chin with his index finger with a smirk. "Verafel is telepathic. Shh... maybe I can alert her to my mind and get her to talk to me."

Sephiroth silenced, watching as Ansem closed his eyes, relaxing against his chest while he freed his mind and sought for the not quite familiar thought patterns of the golden dragon.

They came alive like a lattice of small wires. Their blaze attracted him, and spoke with the simple, to-the-point sentences of a child's mind.

Stranger that speaks to me, who are you?

*Just Ansem. It's me. Are you okay?*

My wings won't move for me and my teeth are clamped shut. It's hard to breathe.

*Don't worry. Can you speak to Raven right now?*

She is sleeping. Her mind is not open to conversation when she's unconscious. I do not know where she is, either.

Ansem chewed his lip. His brows knitted together and Sephiroth patiently said nothing, watching and waiting for him to lend his idea. Finally Ansem responded again.

*I think I have an idea... Varafel, listen to me carefully. When I tell you, I want you to start acting very savage or sick. But it won't be awhile yet...*

When Ansem relayed the plan, he sat up, throwing the blanket away from his head as he sucked in fresh air. His face was flushed from being under the fabric for so long. Sephiroth smirked up at him, tucking a hand behind the back of his head as he squirmed deeper against the pillows.

"Everything all set now?" he cooed, half-teasing and half-loving.

"Yes... taken care of completely," Ansem murmured, leaning forward and surprising his love with a firm, possessive kiss. Electricity passed through them, rendering them to shivering still figures illuminated by moonlight. Touches passed between them, now Sephiroth left hand gripped Ansem's right. 

"I've missed you," Sephiroth said, his eyes softening, filling up with tears that leaked from the corners of his eyes. "Kiss me like that again. We'll get out of this. _Together._"

"Forever..." Ansem closed his eyes, pressing close with tingling apprehension and kissing lips. With each passing second, they prolonged each kiss, teasing with tongues, fingers pressing and kneading. Clothing didn't have a chance against it, and fell free in due time.

Ansem smiled, sure as the sun would rise later in the morning. He slipped his fingers over Sephiroth's warmed flesh, watching his face change, his mouth tighten expectantly until his tongue moistened his mouth, gasping softly with the feeling of experienced hands running over his torso, molding softly over his hips and then between his thighs at last.

Ansem paused at his tears, only to find Sephiroth's fingers trying to continue what he stopped. The blue-eyed man exhaled slowly, speaking in a hushed moan. "I'm... a little frightened," he said. "Too much to take this the entire way... but ... don't stop touching..."

Ansem smiled, obliged as he kissed him, their stiffened manhoods crushed together as they moved with feverish patience that dwindled. Their breath puffed, chests heaving as quick, maddening touches raped them into thoughtless haste until they cried out and their tremulations rattled their senses into oblivion.


	6. Swift and Brutal Pursuit

A/N: Here now... another chapter. I've written so much this week it's not even funny. God bless two days off from regular week of school! Hallelujah! Or whatever... yes. This is where most of you might not like Hikaru that much... remember, he's evil and insane and all those good crazy things that made you love Sephiroth...

--------

Ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant

(Where they create desolation, they call it peace) 

Hikaru leaned against the railing. The morning was fresh and clean. The air was not tainted up here, but it was thin and made a lot of people breathe a bit longer in order to get their oxygen. The sleek craft shifted in and out of wispy, ribbon-like sirius clouds, invisible only to the eyes so many kilometers below.

The Captain sidled up to him, murmuring respectfully, "Droppin' altitude, just as you ordered... we'll be a-port in an about an hour, sah."

"Good," Hikaru smiled, rolling his shoulders slowly in relaxation. He looked askance at him boredly. "Are you going to just stand there or pilot this ship, fool? Get away from me... oh, yes. And bring the prisoner with green eyes to me."

The Captain hissed, puffed himself up before ambling off with a string of curses. Hikaru turned away again, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, staring out over the cloudscape intensely. 

He was not phased by the ruckus that ensued after the clank of the bay doors opening. He rolled slowly, leaning his weight against the railing as he regarded Sephiroth, bound by handcuffs and a pair of security guards on each side of him. He wore a normal attire of pants and shirt and boots tricked out in black. 

"What is it now?" Sephiroth demanded wearily, sagging his shoulders as he parted his legs somewhat, eyeing the slouching panther figure Hikaru. 

"An execution," Hikaru murmured drowsily, waving his hand in the general direction of their destination. "Yes... a martyr..." He rolled his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deep till the veins in his temples stuck out. He chuckled in a raspy, dry-paper way and forced a hand into his jacket, fishing out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

Sephiroth watched him light up a fag and he wrinkled his nose. The air was thin enough but he seemed oblivious. The wind hardly bothered the tiny flame of the gilded lighter he replaced back into his pocket. "What? You're going to kill me... that's rich... but unexpected. So how did this great decision come about?"

"You'll see," Hikaru said, after a noted pause and blowing of smoke through his nostrils.

A moment later, an explosion knocked every man on his back but Hikaru. Several smaller explosions echoed from different sections of the ship. When Sephiroth managed to roll onto his knees and raise his head, he saw Hikaru standing calmly as before, looking out to the horizon, eyes half-closed as though listening to a beautiful, dark symphony. It was as though he could feel the death of men before it ever touched their hearts.

"What are you doing!?" Sephiroth roared, his worry for Ansem fanned to radioactive intensity. He found that his handcuffs were loosened and many of the guards were scrambling to calm the crew and the passengers. He threw the cuffs aside and lunged for Hikaru, only to find himself suspended uncomfortably by his throat, in an obvious choke-hold.

Hikaru was not touching him physically. But his eyes held him as surely as any cold grip may, gazing at him with burning yellow orbs which flashed with lightning. "You'll see! Have patience! Besides... I'm not doing anything."

"S...Stop..." 

Let him go! Golden fury launched itself from the ruined doors, jaws open and from them coming a most terrible shriek like an out of tune brass section. Her wings flapped broad to catch her balance and stability. Before she crashed into Sephiroth's floating prone body she ducked her head and reached her narrow head beneath the space that seperated the man's feet and the deck. 

Hikaru's foot kicked out, smacking with a crack against the side of her angular, bone-thin snout. Sephiroth fell on top of her, tangled in her wingsails and she shrieked again, violently bucking and throwing the man to one side.

Chaos erupted there on the deck. Raven emerged with Ansem, who immediately utilized a few Spirit stones to cast a spell.

It was Holy, a well-reknowned and perhaps too powerful a spell for Ansem to utilize. Its element consisted of light and goodness - effective against men like Hikaru. Yet while he cast it, he felt the pain of its energy coursing through his veins. All the same, while it filled the air with painful, agonizing light he was satisfied by Hikaru's shrill screaming.

The airships engines whined like a dying mammoth, pitching to one side as the earth started swirling into view. Sephiroth didn't feel the like that harshly, but it stung his eyes, like staring into a sun on a clear, cloudless day. He lunged, his feet kicking out from the wooden planks at Hikaru, taking him off of his feet and spinning them over the edge of the bow. 

The pair's limbs entangled, they tumbled end-over-end, crashing against the smoking hull until Hikaru's arm reached up to snag a rope. Sephiroth clung fiercely, his heart drumming in his ears as his mind desperately fumbled for some way to get out of this new problem.

"What's wrong, Sephiroth? Nothing going according to plan?" Hikaru hissed above his ear, thrusting his knee between the other man's legs. "You wanted to kill me, didn't you... now's your chance... it's either us, now, together... or never, boy."

Sephiroth growled, his hand knotted in Hikaru's cloak at the shoulder. His feet scrabbled against the hull, gradually becoming aware of a distant roaring from inside the ship. 

"Smoke... fire... flames..." Hikaru purred softly, looking down at him with a softened, poisonous smile. "Doesn't this seem all too familiar? What are you going to do...?" He chuckled softly, the wind drowning out the sound of his voice.

Vara swooped down close to them, shrieking desperately, turning and dipping and gliding as she struggled to find a way to get Sephiroth away from Hikaru and back to safety. Beyond her, more dragons fell and dived, screaming in unison and sharing in the pain of their suffering humans.

"You can't save them!!" Hikaru taunted wickedly, squirming. "Just fly around and suffer, the bleeding lot of you!"

"Rrrrr....!!!!" Sephiroth snarled, before throwing himself from Hikaru, whose laughter ceased at once as he watched Sephiroth begin to plumet... only to be plucked out of the air by Vara, borne on her wings to immediate safety.

Hikaru hissed, turning to watch them. Then he stretched out his hand and mind, calling... 

Darkness grew in the sky, swirling orbs whose unbroken surface rippled like water. It grew contorted, what looked to be an arm and then a wing bursting from the darkness. A great winged dragon caught Hikaru as he let go, and at once the pair gave chase after the little golden female.

Bent across the neck of the beast, Hikaru swore to himself he'd not lose him again this time. Yet before they were far from the ship, a terrible agony started and fanned itself into torture as the man cried out, beating at his chest. The dragon was afflicted also, as it turned on its wing jerkily and started circling downward.

I know!! Hikaru roared in his mind, his focus dwindling. _I must retrieve Ansem and bring him to the Source._

But... that... Sephiroth--!!

Hikaru was enraged, but a thought came to him from beyond the echoes of frantic dragon calls. He looked toward their glittering gem-hued shapes and gave them silent encouragement to fetch the survivors and bear them safely home.

* * * * *

Raven swallowed, clinging to the insecure railing while Ansem, crouched on the floor next to her. Their cloaks whipped wildly about in the winds, torn by debris. The sky was choked with flames to their eyes, and as far as they knew they were alone and careless survivors burned alive in the airship's rooms. 

"I'm frightened," Ansem murmured to her in a moment of white fear. 

"You've every right to be, but this isn't the time to let it rule over you. Focus your mind on surviving this! There's got to be--"

A flash of light flickered by them, followed by a rush of air that kicked up around them. Ansem turned immediately, spotting a topaz stranger unfold his huge wings and regard them fearfully. He got the message, like a gong in his brain.

Get on! 

The pair pulled each other to their feet and staggered unsteadily to the dragon's side. Raven climbed astride first, and reached for Ansem when another explosion suddenly set the ship off-balance and essentially into a violent downward spiral.

The dragon's claws raked deep furrows in the deck. Ansem clung to Raven's hands, while her legs squeezed around the dragon's broad neck tightly. Swinging around, the beast leapt from the deck but wasn't clear of the flying, red-hot wood-kindling that crumbled around them. One such flaming debris clipped a wing.

Ansem clung to Raven's waist, his thoughts revolving around Sephiroth. He wanted to believe he was safe and sound on the ground somewhere, but he knew in his mind that it wasn't so. Wherever there was Sephiroth, danger followed. Whenever there was worry and unhappiness, Ansem was sure to also be close in tow. 

He felt his heart beat powerfully, thudding in his chest, and thought he heard another heart, distant and strong, pounding right along with his. It said "Sephiroth" with each pulse and he nodded, digging his fingers into Raven's side and searching for the golden gleam of Vara's wings.

* * * * * 

You're heavy!

Sephiroth grit his teeth against the dragon's protests. She swung violently with each wingstroke, trying to ease them into a gentler glide toward the ground. There were fields, with dirt-roads leading and branching off into different directions. The lower they went, the more Sephiroth's fear of crashing increased.

"I'm not heavy at all," he growled, struggling to keep equilibrium. "It's just that you're too small!"

Vara issued a low hiss, arching her neck slightly and swerving. _Down there, when I say, let go, you let go and I'll come back._

Before Sephiroth could exactly comprehend her message, she turned, and dumped him into a haybale on the side of the road. The landing wasn't the least bit graceful. When he found his bearings again, he was rolled over and the hay-bale parted carefully by Vara's claws to find him. 

He sat up slowly, his hair in much disarray and straw sticking to it in a number of places.

Funny, Varafel snickered in his thoughts. 

Sephiroth just sneered, blowing straw from his mouth. "...Thanks."

Vara tilted her head with child-like innocence, multihued eyes flashing curiousity and happiness, ignorant of his displeasure. Cheerily, she replied, _ Your welcome!_

* * * * *

The dragon continued after them, Hikaru's eyes fixed on the topaz dragon overhead. He raised his arm, gripping the lacquered riding saddle of the dragon. Before he could utter a phrase, a bolt of thunder shattered above and nearly struck the side of his beast's head. 

"Feiii!!" Hikaru cried angrily. "So you want to play with spells, little girl? So be it!"

Fire generally did not work against dragons. He opted for freezing spells instead, and called upon the inner powers vested in him by the Source. He shifted slightly, drawing his hands in a smooth circle, signing silently as the ice crystals curled into the shape he desired. From solid killer point to blunt end, four glittering spikes of ice rocketed forward with sudden force. 

He watched them intensely, hoping at least one make its mark. The topaz wheeled franticly, with little choice to avoid narrowly only two of them. The two that struck buried into his shoulder and flank. Gray-red blood poured forth, staining its gleaming hide and spattering Raven's pallid face.

"This isn't going so well, is it?" Ansem groaned, looking over his shoulder only to have his head whipped about violently from the force of gravity, the dragon losing altitude and straining against all its burning injured anatomy to maintain a safe rate of descent.

Hikaru followed after them, the black dragon swerving to avoid a flash of light and a second crack of thunder. He leaned forward, watching eagerly as the topaz swirled left and right, blood raining in its wake as it bled profusely from the melting daggers.

"That's right," he hissed softly. "Keep safe my prize, little beastie, that I may keep my own safe..." His eyes, yellow and burning, swirled hungrily as he anticipated a satisfactory victory.

And maybe, he thought as they landed in a small reedy marsh, he could hope for that he hadn't felt in years. Freedom. 

Maybe...

"You're out of spirit stones," Hikaru called plaintively to the bleeding dragon and its riders. "You've no place to run unless you like the stench of rotting things."

"I hate you," Ansem roared, "and I have enough Spirit Stones to make you burn!"

"Not likely. Forget Sephiroth, boy. You've got a very special ceremony to attend, and it's imperative you be there."

Hikaru giggled, hugging himself as he walked cleanly over the boggy water, like a terrible dark messiah, never touching its glossy black surface, but leaving faint glowing ripples in his wake. Ansem's terror was exquisite. It made him remember Sephiroth.

...Maybe.

* * * * *

Nearly a mile away, Sephiroth walked beside Varafel, whose odd silence disturbed him. The buzzing of cicidas in the grass. She moved with graceful ease, her wings folded along her narrow, curving back, striding on all fours like a great feline. Similar hay barrows lined the fields to their right and left, with other four-legged beasts with tan or chocolate hides feeding on the thick grasses.

"Are we getting any closer to them?"

Not far now. Raven is not too far. But too far to hear.

"You can't hear her...?" Sephiroth tilted his head, turning to look at her, but her eyes were fixed blindly on her lady's whereabouts. She didn't stop, even when Sephiroth noticed a group of people coming down the road.

He slowed in his steps, reaching to get a soft hold on the edge of her wingsail. "Wait a minute."

The crowd approached. They were easily out-numbered, but not quite over-powered. They literally looked pissed off, and bore pitch forks and meat-cleavers as though possessed by some mad, heathenistic desire for bloodshed.

"Great," Sephiroth groaned, sore as hell already as he bent his knees, baring a bit of steel on Masamune. 

"Blasphemers!" a woman cried. "Devils! You must be tried for your sins!"

"Sins? What?" Sephiroth did not relax. Varafel scrabbled backwards, spreading her wings and mantling threateningly, eyes swirling. She was becoming more and more agitated into a rage simply because she was kept from Raven for so long.

"Even the lowliest have dragons of their own, wretched-looking as they are. That's not your own, I can see as much. It's not her we want. It's you! You, embodiment of sacriledge, murderer of kings!"

Sephiroth was stunned. And angered. His madness broiled at a bearable level before, but now fueled by this new obstacle he did not hesitate to charge through, shouldering past the lot of them. Many hands groped to keep him back, angered shouts following him as Vara's shadow fell over their heads as she flew past.

Then another shadow. And another, then another, cheered by the angry mob that chased after him.

----------------

A/N: Ahhh..what's going to happen to Sephiroth!? And Ansem! Noooo!! Grrr... feel free to send your hate to Hikaru soon...hee, hee... don't worry, it's not the end of the world.


	7. Breaking the Limit

A/N: This has been VERY hard to write... actually, this isn't the only story I couldn't write in recently. I've been in a major emotional slump. Being 16 years old is not my cup of tea... but I've been slogging on through the teenage doo-doo... but, yes, there's a lot of speculation on what's going to happen to Sephiroth and Ansem... Sephiroth will seriously lose his cool...no lie! (And may I say, it's about...time?)

---------------

Raven struggled uselessly, bound and gagged and secured across the riding saddle of the black dragon. The topaz lay dead, slain by a well-cast spell that sent its spirit straight to Hikaru's personal favorite version of hell. Whatever happened to it there was not his concern, but he derived awesome satisfaction from knowing it would suffer even if it had proved useful.

A dragon of this world's kind would not change simply by Hikaru's power alone. A dragon remained only as good or as cruel as its human, to which the winged firebreather was spiritually and psychicly bound.

It was the same with Raven's spirit. She not only writhed to be free, she strained against the distance that seperated her and her golden goddess. Ansem watched in helplessness as tears streamed forth from the woman's face, so strong a woman before now reduced to a weeping vagrant. Her black hair was in such disarray, her fine braids tangled and beads missing from her dark locks.

A stewing loathing began to curdle for the man that rode the black dragon, Hikaru - some deranged and unbeatable being that had probably been manipulating he and Sephiroth both since the beginning. Sephiroth had told him he was dangerous and powerful, but was he truly so? There wasn't an ounce of strength left for Ansem to cast any spells, much less any spirit stones. Hikaru had them all taken, and then had fed them with airy cheer to the dragon, which crunched the glowing stones between the diamond-like teeth and swallowed the magical essence.

Ansem wanted to ask Raven if everyone fed dragons spirit stones... but she appeared in no state of mind to entertain him with fun facts.

"Where are you taking us now, insensitive cretin?" Ansem spat instead, forced to cling to the riding straps that circled around Hikaru's legs to his back.

"To Sephiroth," Hikaru said boredly. "It's better if I just keep the two of you together just to shut you both up, than listen to either one of you bitch and complain about not having the other. However if you want me to leave him behind and keep him all nice and safe--"

"Don't play your goddamn games with me! What do you bloody want!?"

"I want nothing." Hikaru adjusted himself on the saddle, almost disturbing Ansem from his carefully observed balance.

"You must want something, man."

"No. I just like to kidnap otherworldly foreigners and keep them locked up in a basement so I can play with them for all eternity," Hikaru answered blithely, sneering in contempt. His yellow eyes matched the contained fury of the black dragon, which circled high above a grassy field, dotted with herding animals and tightly binded bales of hay.

Ansem took Hikaru's meanness for sarcasm and stared at the middle of his shoulders, strongly wishing he had something sharp and pointy to jab into them. 

"Someday you'll understand," Hikaru replied with alarming softness. "You'll know... and then nothing else shall matter. In the scheme of things... you are like the spokes of the wheel. Without them, the wheel would crumble."

"And the center?" Ansem probed, shifting his grip to a tighter hold on the rear strap. "If I am the spokes, what does the wheel represent? What am I supposed to do?!"

Hikaru closed his eyes and shook his head. The black dragon suddenly made a jerk to the left and swung its head toward a village. Hikaru's sharp yellow gaze followed the dragon's and he smiled. "He didn't go very far, did he?"

Raven lifted her tear-stained face, merely sniffed and smiled. She spoke her dragon's name with difficulty, and Ansem percieved a very visual change in her as she relaxed her body and resisted no more.

"What are those people doing, I wonder?" Hikaru observed softly as he laughed, leaning forward and resting his cheek on the dragon's neck, peering down. Ansem looked, too, and nearly cried out with what he saw.

A circle of dragons, mounted by what appeared to be armed knights, walking Sephiroth through the village square, heralded by shouting and angry citizens. Varafel was chained to two tall stone pillars, about her neck and legs, though she did not appear entirely pleased with it.

"Take us down lower, damn it!" Ansem shouted, grabbing Hikaru's shoulders. 

Hikaru threw his shoulder back with a snarl. "Damn it, have patience! Don't make me change my mind about your precious bedmate!"

Although Hikaru was a bit surprised Sephiroth hadn't begun hacking away at the soldiers yet. All the same, it wouldn't matter. As the black dragon swung down low to the large town square, the crowd made alarmed cries and shuffled to make room for the beast to land. Dust shot up into the air, stinging many amazed onlookers' eyes.

A dragon knight dismounted and approached Hikaru. "M-My lord! We had not expected you back so soon from your expedition! Are you well?" The knight eyed his cargo but otherwise made no comment.

"Of course I'm fine! My airship otherwise mangled past all function or recognition and every passenger dead, except for these two -- the very architects of my ship's demise! But I shall be taking care of them. And that man over there, too... release the golden dragon. She won't attack as long as I have her human."

"What?"

Another knight rose to take up the call. "Let him go!"

Sephiroth growled, shrugging off the guiding obtrusive hands of the other soldiers and stood near the foreleg of Hikaru's dragon.

"What do you want?"

"Sephiroth!" Ansem leaned over, but was painfully restrained by Hikaru's jabbing elbow.

"Get up here," Hikaru ordered as he motioned with his hand to come on up, for all the world like a disinterested parent. "Don't worry about weighing too much, you blundering idiot. Just shut up and do as I say. Please!"

Sephiroth hesitated, before the tall man reached up, gripping the saddle-horn in the back. He managed to find a space for himself, somewhere in between Raven's bound body and Ansem's back. Suddenly Raven slid off the saddle, rolling down the dragon's hind leg and smacking painfully against the ground.

"Get her to jail. For abetting the murderer of Vati Sorin. I don't what comes of her life. It's not my problem." Hikaru watched out of the corner of his eye the look of pain and rage that flickered over the pairs of faces that were behind him.

A moment later, with a sickening lurch, Sephiroth was once more thrown back in the saddle, digging his fingers into his companion's sides just to hold on. Soon, they were gliding on a stream of warm air, hundreds of feet above the ground that passed below them slowly.

Sephiroth's knuckled burned from the amount of pressure he was using to hold tightly. He relaxed reluctantly, leaning against Ansem, who in turn leaned back slightly. It felt remarkably better to feel him close. Slowly the golden-eyed man turned his head and pressed his cheek into his chest, where a warm wetness grew.

Silver hair streaming behind him, still covered in bits of straw, he moved his arm around Ansem's waist, holding him close. His eyes burned, too, but he said nothing. He stared his promise of death to the back of Hikaru's head. Thankfully Hikaru had nothing to say. 

Burning questions, demands, angry curses crumbled to dust. He was tired... he was hungry, a terrible gnawing pain growing in his chest. But otherwise the only thing that kept him from losing hope was the silent affection and gladness that flowed out of Ansem.

* * * * *

In this world, Hikaru was to succeed Vati Sorin and was to become Vati Hikaru. The position gave him full power over most of the east continent, and provided him with the political power to slowly send this world straight to hell. Untold terrors would descend on this little realm of dragons... but first, to see to Ansem's fate.

Hikaru flew them over the fields, past the little hamlets peopled with those who could not govern themselves. He followed the Long Road to the Sagron Flats. Beyond those, in a vast range of canyons, lay the source of the Vati power... and also where the Door to this world lay, locked snugly within a towering palace that sank almost a mile underground and yet rose hundreds of meters toward the sky. It was a gray smudge against a bloodred horizon, where the rust-colored earth touched the azure-blue sky. Banners and flags shot straight out like arrows as bursts of wind came up unexpectedly like a beast roused from slumber by a sudden sound.

Hikaru circled, finding the jagged stain of the canyon landings, flat smoothed stone waiting for them to land. The wind whistled past his ears and he felt the two men behind him starting awake from their uneasy slumber.

"I hope you had a nice, comfy little ride... just don't fall off. Wouldn't do to turn into a big messy splat on the canyon floor!!" he called into the wind. He felt Ansem's hands dig into his belt again as the wind buffed them suddenly to one side. The black dragon wheeled, slowing down as they angled toward a landing around thirty meters in diameter. They were almost completely stopped, the dragon straining against the wind, judging the distance before suddenly folding its broad wings tightly and dropping to the landing with a whoosh of air.

Ansem cried out, smacking into Hikaru's back while Sephiroth nearly flew over both of their heads altogether if he hadn't caught hold of a riding strap that was already cutting into Hikaru's thigh. He hung there for a few seconds, before letting go and standing up. There was little room for words - the air roared past them as though it were a windtunnel, nearly blinding them with bits of grit and sand.

Ansem fell off second, sore, caught by Sephiroth. Hikaru undid the riding straps and slowly made his way down, only to be knocked slightly into the dragon's shoulder by another gust. He pointed, his mouth moving. They saw the door, marked by a pair of torches with a long stone archway leading towards it.

He followed them to it. The roar of wind was lessened in the archway, but he still had to speak a little louder. "You're not really that loved here. I can handle it, though... but I can only do so much, understand?"

Sephiroth glared at him, silent. Ansem jutted his chin out. "Are we supposed to be thankful?"

Hikaru matched his stare. He turned, shoving the heavy wooden door open with his shoulder. After it shut behind them, it was painfully quiet in the echoing hall that greeted them. Gray-green marble beneath their feet, gilded doors, green-gold draperies.

The fiend's step was quick. The pair followed as best as they could, still numb and sore from riding that damnable dragon for so long. Their footsteps hushed and whispered, bouncing back to them until they reached the end of the hall. Hikaru threw open the doors and faced the long rows of tables, filled up with people and accusatory faces, some apprehensive.

"There appears to have been some kind of misunderstanding, Hikaru," said a sneering voice from the head of a table on a riser. "When the Counsel told you the trial was meant for tomorrow evening, we _meant _tomorrow evening."

Hikaru felt his lip twitch. But he forced himself to sweep his hands out, palms toward the sky as he bowed forward. "Forgive me," he muttered, his voice projecting throughout the hall. "But I think... that these are not the men you wanted. I understand that the trial is tomorrow eve, but I merely wanted to make it clear that there is some new...evidence proving otherwise."

The man that had spoken before, with frosty white hair, some dark slate gray hair near the hairline, pulled back into a neat bun, cleared his throat. "Pardon my rudeness... you must have had a long and arduous flight, Hikaru. And you, to succeed Vati Sorin! I have forgotten mself... please. We will talk more of this later... if indeed you think these are the wrong men, then I should like to meet them."

"Indeed you will, Master Segram. Counsel." Hikaru bowed again, and retreated into the hall.

The two prisoners waited. He had expected them to attempt an escape. Instead they watched with baleful, tired eyes. Hikaru felt a moment's tinge of pity and sadness, before a cold jealousy stole over him when he noted Sephiroth's hand protectively clasped Ansem's elbow.

"Well, then," Hikaru choked out, gritting his teeth in a grimace of a smile. "You're both very tired! Come.... rooms, hm?"

One hallway, several doors, and a brief elevator ride later took them to the finely furnished, heavily guarded quarters for guests. Hikaru strongly wanted to seperate them again... Ansem was needed elsewhere, and soon... the man already felt the pangs of pain, the urgent call of the Source commanding the final act that was needed for it to take effect. 

Sephiroth and Ansem would not concede to being seperated. AGAIN, for that matter. Hikaru stood, facing the both of them who were solidly certain that they were sticking together. Not that it would do them much good. 

"I don't have a choice," Hikaru said softly. He folded his arms over his chest, a trailing piece of his bangs falling across one shining yellow eye. "I have no choice at all. I'm... sorry."

A cutting laugh escaped Sephiroth. It was a brutal, broken breaking of glass. Ansem seemed startled by it, and was at once worried. He watched him intensely while Seph tucked his hands into his pockets, chuckling. 

"He's sorry...? You're _sorry?_" the tall, crazed man repeated in sincere wonder. "Since when have you been sorry... for anything, Hikaru?" He lifted his blazing eyes, filled with a devil's hate, quivering as though it were only barely contained. "You torment us... you hurt us, you taunt us, you mock us... you hurt, maim, kill, slaughter, crush everything you come into contact with, devour every trace of hope, extinguish every light... and now, here, as we've come this far..."

Hikaru regarded him calmly, oddly detached from the man's feverish speech. He felt the cold jealousy melt into cold loathing. He did not know where to direct it, but it sank there and kept him silent with no biting interruption, no smart remarks to make. 

The man sprang toward Hikaru, jarring him out of his empty-headed daze and his eyes actually widened in alarm, opening his mouth to cry out but barely getting a squeak past his windpipe, which was now being crushed. Sephiroth crouched over him, leaning his weight, with every ounce of strength in his body, slowly pressing him into the wall. Spittle flew from his mouth. A demon rose to the surface, an uncompromising animal, a nonnegotiable obelisk of rage - this demon wanted to squeeze the very spiritual essence out of Hikaru, obliterate it and burn it, burn it into small particles of absolutely nothing.

Ansem screamed out again, snarling curses as the floor burbled black oily liquid, fresh Heartless seething toward him, humanoid in shape, stretching long branch-like arms out to seize him.

Sephiroth threw his head up to steal a backward glance before smashing Hikaru down again, cracking the marble. Glowing green liquid oozed from the back of the yellow-eyed man's skull, pooling around his hair.

"CALL THEM OFF!! SEND THEM AWAY OR I'LL RIP YOUR UNSUFFERABLE HEAD OFF!!" Sephiroth roared. HIs blood burned, whooshed in his ears and deafening him to reason. Hikaru was struggling to speak, but no, more excuses, he was babbling stupid nonsense like a madman.

The Heartless vanished, dragging Ansem through the floor with them until they were gone. Hikaru blacked out. Long seconds of agony rendered his senses to flailing ribbons, before he could see again. When he opened his eyes again, the hall was tinged green, the walls and doors warped beyond comprehension. 

He cursed, shivering in spite of himself as he watched the burning torch of Sephiroth's spirit, echoed in this realm, perch like a phantom over the Hikaru's own 'corpse'. He knew that it wasn't so in the material realm, that it would be seconds, or maybe minutes, ago that this scene occured.

He phased back again. Sephiroth was gone, but the floor by the wall was cracked with spider-web fractures lining everywhere. His senses buzzed and he reacted only seconds before Sephiroth flew overhead, landing in a crouch in front of him.

"STOP!!" Hikaru shouted, and at once felt ridiculously stupid for doing so. Sephiroth swung around and the walls rumbled with the sound of his growl. He stood up and started toward him, shaking with restraint but with meticulously practiced patience. Hikaru scooted backwards, magic tingling slowly along his arms, on his tongue. He was paralyzed in a sense... Sephiroth would not stop. His hatred was like a putrid pool, a waterfall of pollution fueling it... as much as he spent his rage, the waterfall would fill it continuously. It was neverending... the cycle would continue, perpetual, a paradoxial insanity that had made the sky fall on a world that lived to tell of its legacy for years to come.


	8. Power

Author's Notes: Don't kill me for cliffhanging so much... This is very hard for me to write... considering a lot of stuff is going on and I've too many projects and ... well, this will get very interesting if it turns out well, I assure you! Disclaimer, disclaimer...? Oh yes... Read chapter 1 for that one, sillyheads. 

----------------

An angel of Death fell upon Hikaru, raining down blows that threatened to once more send his consciousness spiraling into the spectral plane again. He had but little time to counter with spells to guard himself, before he brought forth a longsword. Sephiroth may have recognized it, but Hikaru would not be sure. Somehow Sephiroth had managed to keep Masamune, which he also wielded.

The hall, though quite wide and tall, was a formidable place to fight... but it would spill into innocent people's chambers. Hikaru had a wild notion of trying to save them, fleeting images of their deaths somehow terrifying him. He would not have Sephiroth destroy people's lives just to reach Hikaru. Why it mattered, who knew?

"They weren't mine!" Hikaru shouted, his bones jarred as he spun backwards several steps, Sephiroth charging and feinting like a wolf, following him as Hikaru tried to circle around him and avoid him. "I'm telling you! Those Heartless were not mine!"

"YOU LIE!" 

Hikaru dove again, felt the cutting bite of steel deep in his side. He staggered and exhaled sharply, ignoring the pain. It would heal... just not as quickly... Sephiroth darted in again, hesitated and then charged, bowling over Hikaru, knocking him into the wall. He seized his shoulder, throwing his weight into a knee that nearly threatened to throw his nonliving guts right out of his body.

Instead he spat up the burning liquid of spirit vitality, coughing and sputtering. His vision blurred and swam, shades of green spilling into everything. 

"You lying sack of shit!" Sephiroth roared, grabbing a decent fistful of Hikaru's hair. He yanked him, causing him to cry out again, toward the door where they were meant to stay to begin with. The door slammed; the demon threw him into it and waited for him to get up. He shook himself, quaking before he started to laugh hysterically.

Hikaru curled into a ball. Holy Source... he couldn't stop Sephiroth from even hurting him... no matter how many times Hikaru came back, this man would knock him into oblivion again and again. He groaned and struggled to stay conscious, though now every part of him wanted sleep. But sleep meant oblivion... and oblivion meant failure.

"Please..." Hikaru croaked, interrupted when Sephiroth yanked him up again. Back-handed him, holding him up.

"NO. You're not sorry enough yet. You just stay there.... STAY!" Sephiroth turned and sheathed Masamune, the wall of his broad shoulders quaking with a great deal of obvious restraint.. 

"You should be saving Ansem," Hikaru muttered, shivering against the warm almond-brown door. He tipped his chin up and watched him through his wavering vision. "I ...could help you find him. Take you to him. Stop... the pain... once and for all." He clamped his eyes shut tightly again. He felt himself swerving to the right, then to the left, his equilibrium ruined beyond repair unless he left, fed, and returned again.

Sephiroth lifted himself up somewhat. He faced him again, something murderous and anxious in his eyes. Mad crazy, he found himself actually hating himself more for his inability to rescue Ansem.

"I don't need your help to find him," he spat, his throat working with bile. "You make me sick for even thinking I would accept help from you. You're a living, breathing non-truth statistic. Everything you are is a lie."

Hikaru ground his teeth. He coughed blood and weakly began to giggle. "...Oh, alright... big bad Sephiroth... You're an idiot besides... just a big idiot. I can't tell if it's your ego that won't let me help you, or your mildly annoying hissy-fits. Without my knowledge, you're at a very great disadvantage. Ansem has been taken to the Hall of Shadows, far beneath here in the catacombs of the castle. If everything goes as it has been planned, his body will become the vessel for the Source."

"What Source? Tell me, you shit, before I throw you out the window for fun," Sephiroth's interest was piqued, no matter how furious he was.

"You don't have much time. There is a place that is not a world, but it's where everything comes from. Light and dark both, gushing from it and filling the universe. It is what will cause the destruction of the world, the rebirth of everything that is. Through Ansem, it will find a link into this plane where it will begin the last revolution."

"The... Big Bang? Show me!" Sephiroth seized him by the shoulders. Already Hikaru was flickering, and his hands passed through his semi-solid embodiment. "Show me, damn you!"

"It may sting a little..." Hikaru held onto his arms. Slowly he melted away, gradually slipping with Sephiroth through the door and on the other side, found them both on the Spiritual plane. 

"Follow me, and don't ask any more questions. It is so imperative that you trust me, Sephiroth. If the rest of the world means nothing to you, then do it to save Ansem. He is the Chosen One... The vessel through which the Source will carry out the predestined end of the universe."

"Impossible... why? Why Ansem?"

"I said we don't have time!" Only Hikaru knew time had no place in the spectral realm. As of this very moment, time was struck motionless. As they passed through the hallway, Sephiroth silent and strangely unperturbed by his state of existence. Several times Hikaru had to hold Sephiroth's arm to bring him through doors with him, until the corridors ended abrubtly.

Hikaru guided Sephiroth into the light of the living world with him. They stood before a wide archway, doorless, but beyond it was an empty yawning cavern of darkness. The sound of empty space echoed back at them with their now louder-than-usual footsteps.

"Beyond here...I-I can go no further." 

"Ah, but you will, won't you?" Sephiroth seized him by the back of the neck sharply, digging his thumb and fingers into his muscles. "You're not to leave my side until I see Ansem with my own eyes and touch him with my own two hands, understand?"

"Inexpressibly," he choked, squirming as Sephiroth guided him like a puppet, shoving him forward ahead by the neck into the darkness. A moment later Hikaru had a small globe of fire hovering after them, lighting the black gleaming floor. Nothing else could be visible by this light except the flashing gossamer floor. Suddenly Hikaru stopped, no matter how much Sephiroth pushed him. Finally he let go, and the globe burst into a thousand small pieces, each one with as much light as the single globe, setting everything ablaze.

The light sparkled out, like fireworks along the floor in a perfect circle, moving up along a wall that he hadn't seen before. A sensation tingled along Sephiroth's arms; suddenly he did not feel the energy to be angry anymore. Immensely tired, but strangely energized like one's second wind staying up late at night, he wasn't tired enough to sleep. Yet in this moment of weakness, his hold had loosened on Hikaru.

Hikaru wasn't moving either. He seemed paralyzed, his yellow eyes glazed and dull like a china doll's, dazed and still and lifeless as he stared with eerie intensity toward the still uncovered shadows.

"What is it?" Sephiroth murmured, stepping close to Hikaru out of a infant fear, progressing into a considerable terror.

"Ansem is in here," Hikaru said finally, finding his voice. He raised his arm, leaning back slightly, resting the other hand on his hip as he turned away bodily from the light, as the sparks trickled into nothing. Dim blue light filtered everywhere, making the obsidian floor gleam. "Look." He pointed.

Sephiroth peered into the darkness. Or... was it light? The walls were black, vine-etchings so detailed and bizarre it made him wonder if what he saw, if everything was an illusion. But he discerned Ansem's form standing in front of the wall, still and quiet, head tilted curiously to one side. Seph called his name, and Ansem jerked about as though pulled by a rope or struck by a stone fist.

"Sephiroth!" His eyes were bloodshot and gleamed strangely in the blue light. He rushed toward him. He didn't see Hikaru, who had retreated into the shadows. 

Sephiroth crushed him to his chest tightly, possesively pressing his mouth to his and finding it delightful to hear his surprised moan. He gave in to him immediately, sinking down to the hard echoing floor. His eyes burned but he could see perfectly. He saw everything perfectly through his tears, and saw Ansem's heart in his chest beating, whole and powerful. The noise roared in his ears and filled him, smoothing over the jagged knife-sharp edges of his stressful mind.

Hikaru felt inclined to interrupt, but kept his mouth shut. He looked up, watching the wall open as a hole of light ate its way from the center outward, creeping across the wall until it formed the unmistakable shape of a keyhole. The doors spread open wide, the light blinding them, breaking the pair from their kiss but not from each other.

Two forms manifested themselves on the floor, rising up. The forms were black, and it took a moment for him to notice these shapes were made out of the floor. Or they were made out of the light. Maybe both. They solidified, stretching black fingers with inlaid, complex designs of light curving around the fabric. Perfect copies of Ansem and Sephiroth.

"Don't just stand there and stare, you idiots," said the Sephiroth-copy. "You know who I am."

"No, I don't," Sephiroth hissed quietly. "You aren't me. *I* am me."

The dark figure's eyes were pure white. It hurt his own greens to look into them. But the smile that came forth was warm and bizarre, friendly and yet unfriendly. It unnerved him, as the next statement, "Prove it. Prove that you are who you are." fell easily from the dark and fathomless mouth.

You want to know who I am? Maddening light burned behind his closing eyelids. "I'll tell you," he began slowly, his voice grating to his own ears. But the volume of it grew in spite of his madness numbed senses. "I am Sephiroth. I fight, have died, fought and been tortured. Time again has taken me from the only thing that has kept me whole and at peace. It isn't ever, ever going to happen again, do you hear me?

"I love Ansem. And until I get to spend the rest of my life with him, no one - not your little bitch Hikaru, not you, not any force in this DAMNABLE universe or the next - is going to take that from me... I don't want to hurt anyone anymore, but I don't want to be fucked with either. Do you understand? That is who _I _am."

For a long time, no one in the Hall of Shadows spoke a word. Then the Sephiroth-copy melted with the Ansem-copy and together formed an entirely new entity; it rose from the floor and spun like a globe, kaleidescope figures melting out and in and all around. The voice was not Sephiroth's anymore... it carried an unusual genderless tone to it. 

"That is enough. Sephiroth... Ansem. This is what I will do for you; there is no light in the world like the light of love and pain. You have been tested for so long and you are all weary. But the fact remains: the universe has become poisoned... and it must be cleansed by the eternal fire. A vessel for such power must be chosen." 

Hikaru stepped out of the darkness. He looked up, his yellow eyes burning like smoking fire. "Choose me."

Sephiroth immediately looked toward him. He watched his face, devoid of emotion, and saw in his eyes a greed and lust that seemed to echo from Sephiroth's own past. A reflection in a mirror... yes... he felt that desire, felt that want. Power... more of it. The ability to change his own life... instead of accepting it for what it was.

Or maybe Hikaru really did give a damn about the universe. Sephiroth didn't want to waste his time with this anymore. Ansem spoke up, however, making Sephiroth's blood freeze.

"I... I'll do it."

A beast's shriek broke the stunned quiet, disturbing the Source as it bled light and dark in all directions. Hikaru spun to look at Ansem as well, Sephiroth's cry dissipating into nothing.

"What!?" he whispered hoarsely, squeezing the man in his arms. "Why? Ansem--!!" 

Ansem's face softened. He was the same man he'd met in the mountains... the one he traveled with and loved forever to Sephiroth. Ansem understood him completely. Everything that Sephiroth just told the Source gave him hope. He reached to soothe his fresh tears and brush the messy strands of hair from his shadowed face. "Look... you've got to trust me," he whispered. "This is the ultimate test... I'll be able to protect you from whatever happens. You believe me... right?"

"I don't quite understand," Sephiroth growled with difficulty. He closed his eyes and pressed his face in the crook of Ansem's neck. "I don't want to let go of you... ever, ever again..." 

"You won't," Ansem grinned. "You wont have to." And the man raised his eyes, golden and bright as the setting sun, shining with his confidence and his strength. "That's it. You can do it. But you're using BOTH of us. Or you're not getting either one. Understand?"

The Source quivered. It was as though it burned from within with every ounce of atomic death it could restrain. After a long pause, it became still again and broke into a thousand mirror shards. The collective voice stole into their thoughts again, trickling into silence. "It is done... Sleep, sons of the earth and the worlds and of men. The universe will crack a new dawn when you awake..."


	9. Old Memories, Old Friends

A/N: Okay... from thenceforward, there will be less of fighting and more of a bit of romance... I'm tired of fighting and stuff, aren't you? Well... anyway, it's your preference... just so I'm warning you, you may hate me for what I do for Sephiroth. This new world they're in is rather like an old-fashioned type late Renaissance type place, with carts and things and sort of like a fantasy book that has dragons, but also colleges and estates and things. I'm only saying this because Sephiroth will be staying here for awhile. 

------------

Ansem remembered further back than his insurrection as a foolish sage, experimenting with the workings of the heart and of darkness. The result of having no heart was a creature called a Heartless. The ever-hungry, world-starved creatures who craved the life essence of the living, who existed for nothing else, born from the remains of an empty heart of one who once lived. 

This... being seemed to him the 'god' that lived inside Kingdom Hearts. It pressed its will on everyone who lived. It dictated what light would go where, which darkness goes here... its hand guided the destinies of trillions of lives every day. And now it was giving him power to change the rhythem of the universe.

"Why do you ask me to do this thing?" Ansem said to the Source, whose absence drummed in his ears. It had gone away, whatever it was... leaving him alone with Sephiroth. 

Hikaru... he was gone as well. Perhaps the Source had instilled some ill fate for him at last. Good. Let the bastard suffer, not trouble us anymore.

"How do we get out of here?" he asked Sephiroth.

"How in the Nine Hells should I know?" the silver-haired man growled, flipping his hand up in the air dismissively. "Don't ask me... you're the one who wanted the power." 

"I don't want it," Ansem responded as he stood up and looked about him. There was no light in this small place except for a small circle of it which bound them, like a spotlight shone down on them alone. "I took it so I would just... get this over with. So we'd be left alone... It seems so simple that I just had to. I can't take much more of anything... I just want to be let alone!!"

Sephiroth stretched, laying sprawled on the hard black floor. Slowly he pulled himself together, onto his feet again, and held onto Ansem. "You have the power... then use it... Get us out of here. Then we'll start thinking about what to do with the universe..." 

Golden eyes slid shut. He nodded his head in numb affirmation and let a single tear slide down his cheek. His hands clenched. His eyes opened, and this time they were burning white. The chamber rumbled, the sound reverberating so powerfully Sephiroth clapped his hands over his ears as he stood nearby and watched with growing fear the light that began to pulse through Ansem's body, growing slowly outward until he seemed to blaze with white fire.

Bits of black ceiling fell from above, crashing into the floor and fracturing apart. Sephiroth took a step away when he heard Ansem's voice penetrate his hysteric thoughts. _Come take my hand. You can trust me. This kind of light is the light you can hold onto._

Sephiroth rushed forward, partially because a large boulder was plumeting toward him and mostly because he didn't want to get left behind. He crashed into Ansem, embracing him on sight and clinging as the light poured over him. His flesh burned and tingled, like water pouring over him, encasing his body in liquid safety.

He felt the other's lips brush his, loving and promising, and it stole his breath away.

* * * * *

The time was morning. Just as the Source had promised, the first rays of sun burst across the sky and set everything to a golden blaze Sephiroth cracked open his eyes, blinded by the unfamiliar enviroment momentarily. Gradually he felt the sheets around him and the soft pillow beneath his head. He touched his arms, his face, pulling his fingers through his hair. He felt no pain... an immense warmth spread through his limbs, as his heart began to pound loudly in his ears.

He held a hand to his chest. His body felt full, as though he'd been stuffed with too much blood and fibers and bone. His heart pounded sluggishly, struggling to pump life-force through as much flesh as possible. Standing up he found himself in a respectable dome-like room. It smelled like incense and wood, of which the floor and walls were made. The bed he'd slept in was set against one wall, the foot of the bed in the middle of the room. Paintings of a town were hung, some of single houses, others of a panoramic view of seaside dwellings by the sea. Very fine white houses, glowing with the very peaceful air he breathed this moment.

He wore a simple silk robe, which flowed around his bare feet. It was colored white, with silver emblazoned wings sweeping down the back. The sash around his waist was tied securely and warmly. His face flushed as he patted around his waist, confirming he was wearing something under it at least!

He started toward the window, pushing open the doors and letting the fresh clean light spill in. He raised his arm to shade his squinting eyes. Beyond where he stood was an ocean. Directly below were the walls of a house situated on a cliff above the remainder of a town. The houses were old-fashioned but quite beautiful, roofs fashioned out of strips of biege flexible mortar material, each house painted either sky blue, white or green with black trimming. The streets were cobbled, and carriages rattled past drawn by beautiful chocolate-brown animals with hoofed feet and flowing manes and tails.

He turned, thrown for a surprise to see his chamber door opening. He watched a man enter... and his throat caught almost painfully. He clutched at his throat, mostly to keep himself from crying out. When he could finally concentrate, his eyes started from bottom to top. Heavy buckle-bound boots stood on the solid wooden floor. Slate gray pants, bulging with a few side pockets, tucked into the boots and secured with a very heavy looking belt that hung loosely on the waist.

A leather overcoat, riddled with zipper and a few silver loops hanging from the pockets hung from sleek smooth shoulders and was mid-calf length, draping behind the slender form . A snug white shirt completed the ensemble, as well as a dangling charm from the left wrist.

Hopelessly impossible golden spikes poked in every which direction possible. Ice blue orbs watched him impatiently. 

The shock never seemed to wear off yet. Sephiroth lowered his hands slowly and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Who are you? Where is Ansem?!" 

The man shook his head, one hand shifting to rest on his hip, brushing back the fabric of his opened coat. "Don't tell me you don't know who the hell I am."

Sephiroth's throat unstuck slowly. He breathed the name almost wistfully, closing his eyes and growling. "Cloud... where is Ansem?"

"Ansem? Look, Sephiroth...I don't know what's up with you but he's dead. He's been dead since Sora sealed the Keyhole. Didn't you know that?"

Sephiroth's chest throbbed and pushed against his ribs again. The words were like a physical blow. _NO... _"That's not true..." Sephiroth walked forward, reaching to grab Cloud by the throat, who deftly dodged away out of reach. "That is not true!! He was with me, we went across worlds together and fought off the Darkness and I saved him! We were safe!! We're safe, aren't we? _Where is he!?_"

Cloud warded off his advances, slowly circling around in the room until he came to the window, and he waved his arms. "Hey, calm down! Please... we found you on the doorstep, we didn't see anyone drop you off. There was no one else! You slept for hours!"

Sephiroth stopped advancing and stopped. Nearby there was a table and a chair. He slumped into it and brushed a hand viciously through his hair, saber-like to get the hair away from his eyes. He stared at the wooden table surface, taking slow, deepening breaths.

"He'll come back," he said softly. "He hasn't gone far. He dropped me off to rest up until he comes back."

Cloud approached, stopping short a few steps away from it. "There's food in the kitchen... I'll get you a plate if you're hungry."

Sephiroth nodded his head, not speaking as he breathed deeply one last time. He pressed a hand to his chest, suddenly filled with the desire to cry again. But the warmth filled him, pinning the tears, washing the pain from them and making them bittersweet. Because he could feel the light. He touched it, burning through his skin, painless and pure.

He was alone in the room again. He spoke aloud, barely above a whisper. "You're....here with me...aren't you..."

Of course I am. 

"But... where...?" 

Inside. Where I've always been. My powers brought us here, and we're staying. No more world-jumping for you.

"But how can I be with you if I can't touch you?" Sephiroth clenched his fist against his heart, as though trying to pull Ansem from the confinement there. "What happened? Did everything become changed?"

I'm still working on it. The universe is so huge... I would ask if you would like to see-- Ansem's voice changed, laughter behind his words as Sephiroth made a face. _But you seem preoccupied. _The newly awoken made a soft unhappy growl, but was angrier than he felt in his heart. He was depressed. Vaguely Sephiroth felt ghost caresses in his hair, soft lips against his ear. _ Don't cry anymore. The changes come slow. It won't hurt anymore._

"But I'm still alone!" he cried. He felt another wave of despair begin to pull at him, but he realized with a shock he shouldn't feel this way. Ansem doesn't want it. He wasn't alone... Ansem was with him, as close as anyone could be to Sephiroth... in his own heart, part of him always. He tipped his head back and exhaled sharply, before swallowing another breath quickly through his nose.

Cloud stood in the doorway, bearing a tray. He moved forward, sliding it onto the table in front of the man and he stood nearby, waiting before he spoke. "It's alright," Cloud said suddenly, cracking a small smile that beamed of the strange and sunlight from days of old. 

I remember that smile, Sephiroth thought sadly. He closed his eyes, inhaling the heady, drowsy aroma of coffee and pancakes and sausage. It was good but made his stomach twist uncertainly, as though not sure it was really that hungry.

He slid the mug closer to Sephiroth, who bent close and tipped it toward him, sipping carefully and noisily from it. He looked up at Cloud, whose smile was still there but barely. The mixed expression hurt more than being punched in the face.

"You hate me, don't you?" Sephiroth mumbled, looking away quickly. 

"What?" 

"Do you hate me?"

The blonde sat down across from him, running a hand over his spikes thoughtfully. He looked toward him, shaking his head. "You seem different... I hate the person I remember... but... I don't know who I'm looking at right now. You're weird."

"Hmm... Thanks, I suppose... A lot has changed..." Sephiroth blew on the coffee and drank a bit more. He caught sight of a cute grin on the other man's face for his reward. "But there are more to come, I suppose... I can guarantee it."

They sat together, companionable silence falling between them. The unease melted away as Sephiroth began to experimentally nibble on pieces of pancake. He could feel the steady constant pulsing of another heart inside of his own, which gave him as much comfort and strength as having another friend nearby.

"Mr. Rin has a bit of silver for you put aside. He owns this bit of estate in the town... if you're not sure, this town is called Seway... as if you couldn't tell by the ocean."

Sephiroth smirked.

Cloud stood up and yawned, smiling in apology. "I wish I could stay longer. But you, sir, needs t'get some better clothes on you." He turned, leaving him with his food. Sephiroth was almost terrified to see him go. He took human company for granted and, as a result, felt a seething worry that this was the last time he'd see him.

"Don't worry! It's just down the hall. Eat up. You look like crap, no offense! Honestly! I'm just giving you the heads-up: take a bath in there, you'll feel a little better, might clear your head."

Sephiroth then noticed another door... he saw it just as Cloud stepped out. He wasn't in the mood to get angry. In fact he probably did smell horrible besides. He finished the food as much as he could, but his appetite had left with Cloud. He went to the second door and marveled at the beautiful enticing sight of a gorgeous bathroom. His body suddenly ached to feel the water around him. He shuddered expectantly - yes, a luxurious bath would melt the weariness clinging to his bones and free up time to feel better.

He felt Ansem's presense strongly. It grew when he law sprawled in the steaming water, his arms hanging out of the sides haphazardly, as his head lolled back to enjoy the relaxing oils. He trembled and reached to coil back a piece of soggy silver hair from his face with a finger. When he felt a hand, cool and dry, press against his chest.

"Shhh," the voice hissed. "It's only me." 

Ansem crouched by his bath, smiling at him, retracting his arm and folding it over the other on the edge of the white porcelain. "You look delicious when you're wet, you know, did I ever tell you?"

Sephiroth gaped. Then he shut his mouth, the most irritated smile spreading over his face. It must have been a stupid looking grin because Ansem smiled broader. "You loafing idiot."

He slid, sloshing much water as he bent to lean over the edge of the tub toward the other man and grab his neck, pulling him close to lick his cheek. Ansem held onto his shoulders, smoothing away the water and kissing the steamed skin. A little angry, Sephiroth held tightly to him, no matter that Ansem's white cotton shirt was now getting considerably wet. 

"You said you couldn't come see me," he growled in his ear before pulling back to look at him.

"I never said that. I said I would be changing things... and it takes a lot of my time. I want to hurry and get it done quickly... although I'm not even sure how much I've done..."

"You won't stay?" Sephiroth felt his happiness abate - however, Ansem would not let it mature into the painful hurt he felt inside before. 

The sage took his face in his hands, looking straight into his eyes. "I can't promise anything... but I did promise I would always be with you, didn't I? I don't want to see this sad face anymore. You know that I'm in your heart, where I belong, where I've always been. And unlike popular belief states, it's the best place in the world to be." 

"In the universe," Sephiroth murmured, smiling and taking both of his hands in his.

Ansem caressed his cheek, watching the other's eyes slide closed in pleasure and lean his head to it like a big cat. He sighed, feeling the touch waver and dissipate. When he opened his eyes Ansem was gone again, tucked in his heart from where he worked his magic. How did he work such power from so far away?

For the first time, Sephiroth felt anxious toward the idea that Ansem had the power of everything at his disposal... for was not Ansem a madman, smitten with the dreams of becoming the one to control the Darkness?

* * * * *

Cloud stepped out of the bedroom and shut the door behind him. He sagged against it, a headache building behind his eyes. He shut them quickly, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a few deep breaths.

Easy, man. It's not like he's God or anything. He smiled to himself at the little pun and straightened slowly, gracefully moving down the hall of the considerably luxurious estate house to the next room. Here was the laundry room, which contained any number of clothes of any damned size in the world. They had been made from fine silk, imported from Nahl far to the east, or the preferred wool from the north. The machines that crafted them weren't anything special, hand-powered by devoted artisans. 

He chose out what he thought might suit a man of Sephiroth's height. Gods, so much time and still the man was strictly like a giant to a tiny guy like Cloud. And his shoulders were a bit broad. A longsleeve shirt, half-buttoned down, and a pair of sleek looking pants fit for any handsome lord would do Sephiroth justice. He picked out a pair of new boots from the bottom shelf, then gathered up another just in case they didn't fit. Underthings were up to Seph to get himself.

He carried the things out back to the room, hearing the water running. Running water was another grand luxury that most, in fact, of the houses had in Seway. He set the articles down on the bed and went to the window, breathing in the fresh sea breeze...

Five years had stolen him away to this place. He no longer felt very connected to his own world. He, like so many others in different worlds, became possessed of the curiousity to see other places, meet different people. Then, one year ago, he discovered that the walls seperating the worlds were gone... merely by the fact that a meteor shower revealed a fallen gummi ship, crashing on his world. Then the Darkness came.

He was borne to Traverse Town on floating remains of his shattered home. Once there he met Malificent, if only briefly... and asked around. Yes... other worlds have been disappearing also. He saw Yuffie, but she had already allied herself with a man named "Leon". Cid had taken it upon himself to start running a shop right away to help those in need who could spare the munny.

Fighting the Heartless, dealing with the problem of the beasties there, he earned only enough currency to gain passage to a place where he'd heard about a man called Hades, God of the Underworld. And in some small way, he had hoped maybe he could find a way to bring back the one light Sephiroth had taken from him, since all other old friends were gone.

Aeris... I wanted to find you. All of my intentions were good... but I have some poor judgement issues... 

He spoke with Hades, made his deal: If Cloud defeated the Keyblade master in the tournaments, Hades would release Aeris from the Underworld. He would be able to see her... be able to touch her and laugh with her again, bathe in the soft holy light that seemed to come from deeper than her shining eyes only.

It didn't chance to turn out that way. Well, in the ultimate end it did... but only after he had lost to the boy, many times actually, and found Sephiroth suddenly participating in the event as well. To challenge him would have meant more chaos and discontent - in the end he tried to avoid him as much as possible. The thing was... Did Sephiroth remember him at all?

He would probably ask later. Right now the man needed some serious recuperative therapy. 

A moment later he had straightened the sheets on the bed, fluffed up the pillows and sent for the house maid to get the plates and have them taken away and cleaned. When he was finished Sephiroth emerged, the steam rolling out of the bathroom toward the domed ceiling of the bedroom. He was alarmed and strangely dazed by the sight of him, his flesh red and glowing from the hot bath.... a strong desire to take another towel and dry him off quickly seized him. It probably had nothing to do with giving a helping hand either.

"Are you going to stand there and stare at me or you giving me clothes, or what?" 

Idiot. He's talking to you. Cloud made a sharp turn and stupidly pointed in the general direction of his new clothes, which remained neatly placed on the bedspread. Sephiroth moved past, following with him a wall of moist heat that made him a little dizzy.

"You've got everything you need in there, right?" Cloud walked to the door to the hall, turning to look over as Sephiroth made his way to the bathroom again.

The man looked over his shoulder, wet hair sticking to his back. "Yes..." He seemed to pause here, and make a slow attempt at smiling. Smiling seemed out of practice. But it was nice. "Thank you."

And he bowed, very slightly, from the waist.

Sephiroth... what in the name of the Lady has happened to you?


	10. As Cloud Sees It

A/N: Sadly, this chapter is a little short. But do not be too disappointed. ^_~

---------------

When Cloud was young, he realized at once that Sephiroth was a machine built for warfare. Whatever his lineage, the other soldiers never spoke of it. He, a lowly trooper, had no place to talk of such things in the open. But he was infatuated the moment he saw the lieutenant commander address his troops in a calm, collected and rather distant manner as though he were rewriting the laws of the universe.

He wanted to be just like him.

But fate had other plans.

Instead, he had his best friend Zack to contend with... a man who was now dead, murdered at the hands of the very army he had been with for so short a time in his life. It hardly mattered; orders were orders. He would have done the same... clean cut, heartless and without thought like Sephiroth. His memories still became muddled... but it was a different world. A different time. 

The battlefield saw the great general as a fearless murderer. He led his troops - or rather left them staggering behind sometimes, as he leapt into battle against the people of the eastern island. They fell like so many little flies to his steel and Shin-Ra's weapons. He saw the look on his face, the same look the men would describe as pure rapture, as though touched by god and not quite knowing it.

He would always remember. He had that look when he murdered his mother and burned his hometown to dust.

He was looking at a stranger now. They were shopping; Cloud's silver would buy clothes to last Sephiroth a long while, and as they browsed the man seemed captivated by everything and yet detached from the world immensely. Sephiroth was sort of like a ghost. He held the mask of a man who had long suffered. He sported his new clothing like an obvious newcomer, rewarding him some curious glances but generally no trouble. The last thing they needed was for Cloud to ask him a question that would set him off.

He wasn't particular about his clothes. Cloud had to do a lot of guess-work as to what Sephiroth really wanted. And that was probably harder than any exam any man on this earth could administer. He gave up eventually, and finished off the shopping with buying him a long jacket, for his other one was riddled with scratches and holes that seemed to have accumulated over time...

The estate loomed before them, the courtyard opening up to them like the arms of an elderly woman who glowed with warmth and comfort. Tall trees stood in the center of it, with the two roads meeting beyond, where the doors were already opened and a kindly servant waited for them with their bags and belongings.

Minutes later Sephiroth was seated in the dining room and Cloud sat to his right, watching him, until their gaze met and Cloud looked away. The windows lay open to the sprawling countryside that the master of the house owned. An orchard was nestled against the hillside, bearing fruit whose wonderous scent drifted through the half-open panes and left Cloud aching for his old hometown.

"You seem unusually curious. You've been eyeing me ever since I've noticed."

"I have a lot of questions." 

"As well you should," Sephiroth answered, sipping a cup of warm tea now, which flowed with the aromatic scent of citrus type tea. Cloud's was minty... it was his favorite, since alcohol was saved for highly special occasions. "You think I should be dead... and I might say that I am... many damned fool times over. I'm not the same creature I used to be."

"You still don't think you're a human being, huh? But we know for a fact you aren't. You'll tell me what happened, won't you?" 

"There's..." Sephiroth paused. His eyes glazed, and a peculiar expression passed over his face that left Cloud wondering. He seemed to listen, intently and longingly, to a sound that Cloud couldn't hear. "...much to tell. Some parts perhaps you may not like. But you must promise me not to become angry if I have forgotten details or forgotten a few things. My mind is one of the many things that have changed as well." He tapped his forehead and he chuckled, and Cloud laughed.

The story couldn't be told within an hour. In fact it was dinnertime by the time Sephiroth was reaching the end. He tried, with the help of coffee and small snacks in between. Soon the leaves of the orchard outside turned orange-green with the light of the setting sun. Before long the door opened and Sephiroth halted in his tale to regard the man, flanked by a familiar servant, walking toward them.

He was old... older than Cloud, certainly, with a hawk-like nose and fair hair that seemed to be graying. His age made him handsome, except for a faint scar that ran along from the corner of his eye to his jaw. Sephiroth did not miss that scar; he would ask about it later, Cloud realized, but for now he would introduce the master to him.

"This is Mr. Rin, the lord of this house," Cloud said. "Mr. Rin, this is the man that ended up on our doorstep a week ago. Remember? His name is Sephiroth." Cloud stood up, taking a deep bow and Sephiroth, befuddled and tense, did the same. His mannerisms changed. He reminded Cloud of a wild dog, pedigree purebred, but feral in every aspect but his beauty.

Mr. Rin wore a long riding cloak, a pair of hard leather pants and a thick cotton jerkin, and his cloak was fastened by a silver brooch in the shape of a star. He smiled, offering his hand after tugging one dark brown leather glove from that hand. "A pleasure! Good lord, man, are you well? You shouldn't be up and about, right? But I suppose you probably got bored sleeping so much... feeling alright?"

Maybe he was still wary. But for a long time he didn't answer. And he wouldn't ask for Ansem to give him the lowdown on this man. For as much power as Ansem had, Sephiroth doubted his ability to change men's hearts... He tried to see him as he would see inside his heart, but his sight wasn't that good. He only knew that to an extent Mr. Rin was very trustworthy.

"I'm fine. A little sore yet..." 

"That's good... but can you tell us where you're from, lad? You don't look familiar at all..."

"Far away... the land's name is not easily pronounced... but as far as I can tell, where I come from, I may never return. I wish to stay, if you'll let me. I want to stay here as long as I can... If I were any more tired, I'd be bloody asleep standing up!"

Everyone seemed to find this funny. Even Sephiroth smirked to himself. Cloud tucked his hands slowly into his coat pockets and flicked his head to one side to toss hair out of his face. He looked at Mr. Rin, who was still laughing. He spoke to the servant, who went away quickly. "Dinner will be done soon," he announced, and looked right at Sephiroth. "Might I speak with you later? We can, if you like, arrange the terms of service if you find work a suitable means of living."

They shook hands, each man taking in the other with a calm sense of evaluation, apprehension, and unfamiliar security. The sensation gave the silver-haired man a little bit of a start. But the other man was gone before he could say anything else. 

"He's a nice guy... I work for him, too. Trust me, it's not as exciting as you think it is but all I do is watch the stock wagons when they go out of town to the merchant city. The monsters and murderers on the road are the least of our problems."

* * * * *

"You haven't said a word since this morning."

I don't have anything to say.... except...

"What?"

You know he looks at you. The boy from the dream. The one I saw when we met.

"I don't try to meet his eyes. I'm afraid. I love you, Ansem," Sephiroth said quietly at the ceiling, the ghost of his love laying beside him. He'd only just appeared, after he'd tossed and turned but couldn't sleep.

He reached his hand out, touching the scarred flesh of Ansem's chest. He rolled onto his side to face him, looking at him. He was partly naked, having appeared so, but still it gave Sephiroth a bit of cause for alarm. Ansem himself all but shivered quietly as he caressed him. He realized this was the first night they could peacefully have together, and somehow Sephiroth didn't know what to do... except to talk.

Ansem spoke out loud this time, pressing close and parting his lips to breathe out, "And I love you." The wicked thing was, his hands couldn't keep themselves away from Sephiroth either. Featherlight fingers passed over his shoulders and arms, sliding around his waist and crushing him against him. His glittering golden eyes were half-closed, pressing his mouth once against his collarbone.

Ansem controlled the situation easily, taking advantage of the other's hesitation to skillfully glide the fabric of the thin cotton pants from his waist. He turned aside the sheet and tugged at them still, until they were tossed aside. In the muted moonlight, green-blue eyes fastened themselves on the ghostly figure, whose gentle hands raked themselves over his naked thighs and rested firmly on his hips. 

"I wouldn't know what to do about it... I would never take another... I would sooner die," Sephiroth croaked, biting his lip as Ansem kissed his throat. 

"What if I said you could?" Ansem pulled back and watched him, his face calm and dark and thoughtful. He leaned up on one elbow, nestled nearly half on top of him, as close as he could dare to the naked Sephiroth. "What if... somehow I could no longer stay? You won't stay alone forever; you can't."

"Don't talk of that!" Sephiroth reached out, sliding his cold fingers behind his neck and pulling him forward, simultaneously rolling, and Ansem was suddenly on top of him. The motion quickened their blood, set it blazing, and they didn't speak again. Too many times they'd been interrupted by danger and worries; Ansem was tired of worrying. He at once became whole when he touched the place on his lover's chest where his heart should be. The light came, blazing and numbing his hand where he pressed. He was inundated in a pulsating glow that could have only been Sephiroth's beating heart.


	11. Ansem's Plan

Author's Notes: Plot stuff! Fun, fun plot stuff! And a little bit of angst... I'm sorry about so much of it, but it'll all stop eventually, I promise! Next chapter will be somewhat happy... I haven't planned on having this go on for so long, and I almost want to scrap it but for the sake of FINISHING something for once, I will continue.

---------------

There was no safe haven from monsters on the roads. Sephiroth was actually more accustomed to marauders than monsters. The few creatures that he saw were small, meaningless dwarf creatures with gaping stupid faces that made him want to kick them around before killing them outright.

Then he thought about Cloud. He was as powerful as he remembered. Maybe a little less. He grew stronger under the duress of the journey of defeating him... but that felt like a non-memory, a distant flashback that no longer really held significance. The work was relatively easy. He still recovered from his trials even though he was riding out almost once every two days. Spare time allowed him to walk alone in the streets of Seway and make himself at home in the cafes and taverns filled with friendly laughter and smiling faces. Often Cloud insisted that he join him.

It was good to sit next to someone and talk. It was awkward; what would he say to Cloud? But it seemed they talked nothing more than of the weather, about the people. Often they talked about their past. Sephiroth was less enthusiastic about relating his story. In fact, he never told Cloud exactly how he came to be here in this world at all. He figured if he brought it up, it would jinx the peace he had obtained and cause havoc, even if Ansem promised protection.

He never saw or heard about Hikaru. But he always listened for tales of the yellow-eyed demon, that lust-filled monstrosity wrapped in a man's body. He could almost remember the touch of him close-by, like serpent-flesh on his skin whenever he touched him. And he smelled like death and roses.

Cloud watched him drinking his water, he himself now deep in thought. The conversation was halted, since Sephiroth's eyes had wandered and then finally closed at the mention of someone's name. Zack. Another ghost from a distant, irrelevant past. What a waste of time.

_What the hell could be on his mind that he just shuts me out? Then...well, he always did that to me. It's nothing new to me. But he talks so readily, almost like a normal man. If there's anything he's hiding, would it matter for the safety of the town... of the world? _ Cloud chewed the inside of his cheek, trembled a little and dug his hands into his pockets, leaning back in the wooden chair. The tavern was full up with the warmth of the living. Sephiroth smelled like soap and mint, intoxicating with the trace of sweat and leather.

"Trouble seems to follow you everywhere," Cloud commented blithely, laughing to himself. "Just... a clue would do me fine. I don't know what's on your mind, but if you'd just tell me the jist of it..."

_You don't have to be afraid, _a voice said in Sephiroth's heart. _You can speak my name. He'll remember the coliseum, death, suffering, but I don't think it will matter now. Too much has happened for him to make any judgments._

_He has always judged me. I deserved it. Please stop pushing me toward him, Ansem..._

"Are you going to say something?"

Sephiroth's blood chilled slightly and he panicked. What would he say? He swallowed, tipping more water into his mouth before he set the glass down, making the chair squeak as he leaned forward, pressing a palm to his forehead in a display of indecision. "Lost someone important to me. We loved each other. He's gone now. There's nothing I can do about it now except live. I was tortured, mutilated, by the Heartless until he came. Ansem."

"_Ansem?" _ Cloud was unconvinced. "Ansem came to save you? From the Heartless?"

"There are other worlds than these. You know that. It may not have been the same one. Maybe there are twins or something. You never know... but he told me about what he had done. Yes, he saved me. This world was full of the dead -- mindless pale walking things that felt nothing, saw nothing. They were empty shells... what was left of the living... somehow we got away. We followed the light."

Cloud shifted his legs. Uncomfortable but avid, nothing distracting him from the other man's pensive face, he too scooted his chair in and bent his head close to his. "How the hell did you get here? What happened?"

So Sephiroth related his story. It was long and somewhat detailed, and briefly Cloud had to get up and stretch occasionally. It wasn't choppy, the tale consistent to what he said before, and obviously omitting some things that were meant to be left out. In the end, the tavern was empty and Cloud was sprawled, his feet propped up against another chair and his hands knitted together at the back of his head.

"...and here I am."

Cloud tilted his head. "...Ansem is... running around the universe, 'fixing' things?"

"I know not what he does. Only that he isn't flesh and blood anymore, not until his job is 'done'... so the Source had spoken. I'm not sure what happens after that. I don't suppose Hikaru will appear again." Sephiroth looked tired. He appeared as though every word was a mile and he had traveled each one with perseverance.

The blonde man was still trying to absorb all that had been said. Especially the part about loving someone. He wasn't going to say that Sephiroth was below loving, or incapable of the emotion. It was just impossible to imagine. _Sephiroth was supposed to be the untouchable villain, rotten to the core -- downright evil, if you really want to know the truth. _

He felt a rise of pity choke his throat slightly. This man was hurting somehow, in some way. If Ansem still had any influence in his life, in one way or another, it would most likely be to haunt him. One way or another, Ansem was gone again. It was apparent on Sephiroth's face that something was happening that made his despair grow deeper, like a great chasm that expanded the longer he stayed in Mr. Rin's business.

"I'm sorry to have asked you... I've pestered you too much already. Let's go home, man, okay?" Cloud stood up, offering his hand before pausing to rethink the gesture. It looked too friendly. Too close. The thoughts raced in his head that he merely looked like one man helping another to get up out of a chair that was clearly too small for him. Or maybe Sephiroth was too tall.

In either case Sephiroth fought a secret, brief battle within before he took his hand and stood up. The contact was warm and somehow static, reminding Cloud that Sephiroth wasn't thinking down the same stretch of highway that he was. It shocked him; was Sephiroth somehow trying to replace the new-dug void in himself with something? Was that why he kept hiding his eyes whenever Cloud looked at him?

What did Cloud actually feel anyway? Besides the pity, the understanding... but no satisfaction at all for Sephiroth's torment. The man had suffered since the day he was born - why should Cloud be happy about it? How could anyone smile triumphantly at any suffering? He was done with wanting revenge and sifting through his mind for ways to gratify his anger.

This man needed someone. He needed _Cloud._

"You need a friend, Sephiroth," Cloud said, in all seriousness. "Let me be one. I want to be your friend." In this statement, the weight of friendship, kindness and honesty was carried by a note of sadness and acceptance. Nothing felt as good - or as bad - to hear such a thing.

Cloud clapped a hand over his shoulder.. having to reach up quite a space, but he did it, and felt the taut bone and muscle twitch and flex spontaneously. Sephiroth stepped away after a minute and walked to the door, with the other man on his heels like a guardian angel.

_Why? _

_What do you mean why? Trust me. Sephiroth, please... _

He bent his head down, toward the grass, laying in the small garden, curtained by willow trees in a bed of soft sweet grass, the sun flirting with his eyes as it flashed in between the branches and warmed the place he'd found. He wanted to rest, tired after his exercises, to keep his mind busy while he thought. Now the hilt of the sword was resting against his arm, sheathed in a pure black leather wrap.

He appeared to be alone, but only his eyes saw that Ansem was sitting next to him, stroking his hair, golden eyes focused purely on the other man's face with a fixated loving gaze.

"I want you to trust me," Ansem told him. "Talk to Cloud. He really does want to be your friend. I love you. I love you, Sephiroth, understand? I know what I'm telling you."

The man closed his eyes, shivering. "Why can't you just stay here?"

"I am here... but I'm...not. I'm... I'm like a ghost. And like a ghost, I can do certain things... but it takes a common ground to do something like that. And some deal of cooperation... and to do this, you must cooperate with me."

Seph's eyes opened again, and he sat up, laying the weapon aside and pressing himself to the other's side, raking his fingertips over his shoulder. His mouth found a place to call home against his neck, kissing and pressing occasionally while he crooned deep in his throat. It was only a minute, but Ansem touched his cheek, trailing his fingers to his chin to lift his face.

"You loved him... some things have changed. Cloud does not hate you... and he is smarter, older now. There's no reason why you should hold back."

Once again Ansem had succeeded in silencing him. He felt his hands smooth the senseless saline water that dripped down his cheeks, felt his lips on his ear as he said good-bye and slowly Ansem was gone from him again, watching all the time, a god of time and space and touch. Gone. Sephiroth shivered once again, pressing his face into the grass, breathing in and trying to remember how his touch had felt the night Ansem had prolonged his stay.

"This is different," he said wistfully. "I've never been 'this' kind of crazy before..." He rolled onto his back, realizing he'd been crying way too much.

He heard footsteps.

"Anybody home?" a familiar voice called.

Sephiroth hurriedly swept his shirt over his eyes, realizing he made the white fabric obscene gray-spotted. He grimaced, but only to look up, seeing Cloud walking the stone path then onto the grass, wearing just blue jeans and a white tee-shirt. He looked around, his gaze falling on the silver-haired man who sat in the shade, red eyes and shivering.

"I tell you this as a friend," Sephiroth said quickly, holding up his hand. Then he lowered it and spoke more evenly. "I... don't know what to do."

Cloud walked close. He sat down, one leg out, one knee close to his chest as he watched him, picking a bit of grass. "What do you mean?"

Quietly Sephiroth moved closer. He didn't want to frighten him. Jesus, if he screwed this up... he wanted to do what Ansem asked. He had no idea what he was trying to do for him. Or how he would do it. Whatever it was. But Ansem had vanished and he didn't care anymore who was close to him. "Sometimes a person doesn't understand anything... like right now."

"Do what you feel is alright. Something that won't necessarily make anyone else too uncomfortable. If it seems right, then try it out. And if it's not the right thing, don't flip out," Cloud offered amiably, under no idea that Sephiroth was inching closer.

"I was told... that I should move on," the older man said quietly, rubbing his elbow. "All that I've ever had that I loved is gone. There's one thing that is really still within my reach... and even if it was within my power to pursue, should I have it?"

"Are you asking me?" Cloud chuckled, cut short with a slight choking sound. There was Sephiroth again, close enough to touch his hair. The two of them were barely far enough apart to be two separate people. Cloud hadn't even felt him come so near. But he was all suddenly aware of the breath on his ear and the pulsing throb of someone else's heart near his shoulder.

The next moment Sephiroth stood up, withdrawing like some ghost out of a fairytale. A terrible expression dominated his features, torn apart by two dueling desires. But he walked off, stiff-shouldered and quite honestly leaving Cloud confused, seated on the grass with a reddened face.

After a moment he ambled to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Someone else was out here with him, even though Sephiroth had gone. What in the hell was he thinking, trying to be Sephiroth's friend? Was he crazy, even still? Or just desperate?

Another voice, somewhere from outside or maybe from deeper inside of his consciousness whispered, _Don't pretend you don't know he cares about you, and always has. Don't break his heart because you're having doubts. Take your own advice._


	12. Falling All Over Again

Author's Notes: Twitch I love my plushieEE..... and I like to give him snuggles... and nuzzles... and scritches..... .... Twitch...blank stare....and..huggles... Oh, huggles.... (Gotta love Fredyrk Phox!! Yippee!!)

--------------

_One Year Later_

The first thing he realized was the obvious fact that no one else in his town had silver hair besides Sephiroth. And he knew that it wasn't going to just go away and move on, like many abnormal occurrences. It was just another one of those awkward moments when he realizes that an old friend has come by and you don't know what to say or how to act, since the relationship seems to go deeper and to darker places than your own.

But since he didn't see the man again after the second time while walking around the estate's gardens and many walkways, he didn't ask. In fact he felt all the more better, too, knowing that it was gone. His relationships with people were quite close. If the servants or maids had seen anything, they would most assuredly run crying to him or Mr. Rin and bawl about it.

Cloud's pace increased as he fell into step beside Sephiroth. They were going out together for the first time since they had spoken. Sephiroth himself seemed entirely comfortable with the limited space that they kept between each other. So close that Cloud could grab his leg if he wanted, or interrupt his stride with one outstretched foot. Instead they walked side by side, and Sephiroth's hand continuously made a movement as if to touch Cloud's but it carefully slipped back into his coat pocket again.

He shuffled into the building. The room was dim and filled with cigar-scent and warm food traces in the air swirled into motion as they passed tables. He glanced at Sephiroth, who was checking out everything as usual, his nose twitching at the smells and his eyes unable to keep from glowing incandescently in the shifting lamp light.

"Over there," Cloud said, but stopped short on account of a woman fast approaching them from the right. She had short cropped brown hair and eyes so dark they were like black holes, sucking up every detail on Sephiroth's face.

Cloud groaned.

"Hey, hey!" She latched herself onto Sephiroth's arm, dazzled eyes focused entirely on his handsome face. "What's on the menu today, boys? Can I get you anything?"

"Yeah. His personal space, maybe? Don't you know it's rude to just glue yourself to people like that?" Cloud folded his arms over his chest, jacket creasing around his shoulders and tightening over his back. He had slight scowl lines as he furrowed his thick blonde eyebrows.

She was short, shorter than Sephiroth and a little smaller than Cloud. She made no attempt to acknowledge Cloud's words as she leans against the silver-haired man, eyes gleaming. "Well, darling? Is there anything I can do for My Lord?"

All she ever did was hang off of his arm like that. Ever since she saw him eight months ago, it was all Cloud could do to keep himself from tearing her limb from limb and throwing her out to sea as fish bait.

"Maybe you could join us to sit down and eat," Sephiroth said quietly, perfectly natural and kind. One of those moments when Cloud honestly wished that he was evil and irritable and murderous again. And yet...

"Oh, I ...I couldn't!" She hadn't the guts to accept. Instead she lowered her eyes, those big black eyes, and backed away, tucking her hands behind her back and stretching her shoulders back as she bent her head modestly. "I don't think I could do that. You guys enjoy yourselves." And with that she actually looked at Cloud, not with hate resentment but with a small smirk and a wink before she turned, flouncing away.

Sephiroth shrugged. He didn't much care. He tolerated the squealing girl with the patience of an older figure. Cloud had to respect that, and shame bit him deep in the gut when he had treated her so poorly. He opened his mouth to apologize for himself, but then he felt the even pressure of his hand in his, and his tender pull as they slipped in at a booth sheltered by soft light.

Seph leaned back. The booth was able to hold them both.. but Sephiroth had, of course, a tallness that cursed him from sitting in small spaces like this. So he sat sideways, stretching his legs out into the room, one arm stretched across the table, and still gripping Cloud's fingers.

The blonde man could barely take his eyes off of their hands. It seemed so unnatural. But it felt good. He watched Sephiroth watch him when he stroked his knuckles with his thumb. This felt better. Yes, maybe a little.

"What do you want?" Sephiroth murmured, his eyes closing slowly. He looked sad and somehow pleased.

He found his mouth curving lightly into a similar smile. "I dunno, uh... just coffee and maybe a croissant. Do they have croissants? Or maybe some spaghetti. Uh--"

"Are you happy?"

"Wha?"

Sephiroth sighed, resting his forehead in the opposite hand, speaking with great effort. "Do you mind it if we go out together like we have?"

"I wouldn't if you told me not to. I'm doing this for you, mostly. And I don't mind at all... you don't have to ask me."

The men looked at each other for a prolonged period of time, both a little frightened. Then without any inhibitions, Cloud leaned over the table, straining to reach his cheek, which he kissed, caressing with his smooth, cool lips. He hovered over their joined hands for a second, thinking about what he had just done.

"I'm not really hungry," he continued, "if you really want to know the truth."

The silver-haired man smiled. It was rather dark, perfectly amused for reasons he didn't yet comprehend. An interminable amount of time passed again, in which Cloud sat back and stretched out his legs into the free space under the table. He looked away, blushing, and once tried to disengage their hands. Finally Sephiroth let go and stood, stretching, his long hair tumbling back into its natural position.

"Fine. I want to go home. I command you to come with me." Sephiroth turned to him, lines of cruelty lightly playing on his forehead. His eyes were amused.

"Yes, Lord," Cloud mumbled, playing along naturally, reaching out to loop his arm with his. They emerged into the sunlight, blinking together like two newborn colts. They proceeded leisurely along the docks, before slipping into their section of the neighborhood, where everything was covered in flowers and sweet-smelling plants. The aroma was pretty heady... Cloud thought the sun was making him feel this bizarre giddiness.

_The sun makes it easier to see his face, _his mind whispered. _ And the sun makes his tanned skin gleam, so nicely... I wonder if it's soft. Soft as his mouth, his hands..._

Cloud swallowed. It was hard to really think anything coherent. But the same repetitious thoughts ran in his head, looping around in red-tinged circles. Suddenly he started remembering how good it felt to be Sephiroth's friend. He realized that it wasn't so bad that he had been his slave for that short period of time.

His heart was pounding again. It was hammering like a native message drum, non-stop. He locked his eyes on the stone pathway in front of his face. It occurred to him that maybe there was something magical touching his brain and making him lose his carefully maintained reason.

"You're doing it, aren't you?" Cloud broke out suddenly. "My head's swimming and I want to look at you a little more. What the crap, man?"

Sephiroth stopped hard, his boot clicking fiercely on the stone. He slipped his arm loose and turned around 60 degrees, looking sideways at Cloud. He didn't seem to have an answer that was easy. He shrugged his shoulders. "It must be you, because I'm not trying to do anything. You're the awkward, off-kilter clone who wanted to kill me but really wanted to know where I got that Masamune."

"That's right. You don't have to try to have someone fall for you!" Cloud grinned, helpless. He burst into a brief, but loud fit of laughter simply because the statement seemed so out-of-character it was hysterically funny. "But... seriously. I know we are supposed to be... ah, going out. But don't we act more like best friends than lovers?"

The eyes of Mako green burned a little. Something in them softened with something like... pleasure. "Would you prefer we do something... more personal, then? Maybe that would ease your mind. You seem anxious."

The air between them seemed much smaller. And it was electric, something like synaptic firing going on that he, Cloud, had not been aware of before. He saw Sephiroth come closer, doing nothing to stop him except maybe close his eyes, and draw up short with unease and confusion. His cheeks warmed so much he thought he'd start getting short of breath.

"I don't know what to do," Cloud said. "Command me to do something. But as a tip, I want to go back to the estate now and get some shut-eye because you... you make me sleepy."

"Oh, thank you very much."

"No. I mean you make me... relaxed. Y-You make me... happy, I think, and I really like that feeling... though it... never... occurred to me I'd be feeling it for a long time coming." Cloud lowered his eyes, tucking his chin to his chest as his shoulders began to hunch. Unfortunately, this put his forehead against Sephiroth's chest. The contact coaxed the older man's arms to rise, close around Cloud's body which very soon started to feel the effects of their proximity.

It never felt so good to have him this close. He dropped his shoulders slowly and let himself slowly draw him in closer, the embrace perfectly calm... and to Cloud it felt like they matched almost perfectly. His eyes watered. Suddenly he realized that never during his first relationship with this man did he hug him or approach him with the intention to touch him affectionately... not unless they were safely alone and out of discovery's way, which wasn't very often. But even then when Sephiroth had any spare moments, he rigorously studied his magic and his swordsmanship with a dedication that made Cloud sometimes burn with jealousy.

There were many 'whys' and 'how comes' waiting to be spoken right now, but he held them tight behind his teeth, and swallowed hard. He pressed his cheek into his chest, his eyes watering and narrowing as his lips tightened to prevent the unexpected bout of emotion rattling through him.

_I never thought I would be in love at all. Never even imagined that someone like Sephiroth would suddenly pop back into my life like a pilot out of the Bermuda Triangle..._

He was so ready to forget. Preparing for years to move on with his life wasn't an easy task. Leaving almost everyone behind, the way Tifa and Aeris looked at him as he insisted moving in and working for Mr. Rin was better. But at least they lived in the same world and they could visit, but when was the last time they ever wrote?

And he wasn't ready for _this_.

"Se-Seph? I--" He picked his head up, only to find his sentence cut off by his thumb pressing against his lips, his hand sliding against his cheek and holding his head still. He was shocked, shushed, and paralyzed all at once, for Sephiroth was not smiling anymore and his eyes were not looking at him.

Cloud turned his head around, pulling his face free to look. But he only caught a speck of movement which vanished over the tops of the fences and into the flowery green humidity beyond. He frowned, wiping his eyes and narrowing them to get a fix on it. Before he could ask, Sephiroth already had his hand and led him away, making a shortcut to the estate.

Sephiroth made no attempt to hide the anger that burned steadily and at an even level all night. When he found himself staring into the mirror at his reflection, beyond which stood the quietly nonplussed Ansem, he turned his rage on him.

"What do you think you're doing? You're playing with him, aren't you? How can you play with his emotions like that?"

"I'm not tilting the scales one way or the other, if that's what you're thinking. I give him ideas only. What he thinks of them is his own business. Why are you yelling at me? I thought I told you to trust me." His golden eyes glued to the angry man's distraught form. His own body language illustrated his own confusion. Why was Sephiroth so angry with him?

"I don't know if I can do this. The way he always looks at me... it's as though he's looking at a cross-word puzzle and he can't figure out the very last final word to complete it... and it's driving him batty. I don't want him to suffer. What if I ...what if I can't do this?"

" 'Can't'? There is no 'can't'. You will, Sephiroth, you have to. Please... you can't give up like this on me." Ansem walked forward, halted only by his weakened magic. He stopped, gazing as his hands became transparent. "I can't do this much longer either... I must bind myself to him. I must make myself part of him... while he loves you."

Sephiroth halted. He turned his head, his hair flying out behind him in a shining arc as he tried to focus on Ansem. But he was gone already, his spirit fled from this plane to lightly traverse the next.

While Sephiroth sat down, trying to divulge what he had heard, Ansem walked the dim distorted green hallways of the Spirit Realm, the incorporeal body passing through the wood and things as though he weren't there. He saw living creatures as soft red lights, gleaming and flickering as they hid in their places beyond human sight. To be noted, this was the same way that Hikaru could travel through the hallways of the world where dragons were common commodities.

He fell upon the lethargic movements of one, Cloud Strife. It was early, the sun barely kissing the edge of the sea from out the window. But he was already turning down the sheets to sleep and something in his movements made Ansem pause and think. He saw his body drop face-down into the blankets like a sandbag, and although his senses didn't reach into the material realm, he saw from his shaking body that he must be mildly upset.

Ansem cursed himself. He had limited power left to do something about his suffering. Watching him, he had discovered that Cloud was not as hard-of-heart as everyone thought. Surely, Cloud was a formidable warrior and an honorable man. But it was neither easy nor comfortable to admit to his own feelings. Something that Ansem would have to work around.

He drifted to the bedside. As usual, Cloud sensed the change and turned his head to look around. His eyes burned brighter than the rest of his body, a dark deep crimson that was similar to blood. Ansem smiled.

He reached out, as though he really intended to touch the soft hair that collapsed like falling leaves of gold over his face. Of course, to him, these leaves of gold were now red like the rest of him was. But instead of passing through him as he would have, he momentarily saw the color spill through, saw the golden hair. He moved his fingers lightly over his cheek. Cloud gasped lightly, his chest heaving as he rolled onto his back and reached to find the hand that touched him from out of nowhere.

"I love you," Ansem whispered. "I love everything in you... and someday soon, you will let me into your soul and let me see my love again with real eyes, and touch him with real hands and kiss him with a real mouth. Through you... you can help me. You will reunite my lover and I... won't you?"

Cloud blinked. Shook his head. He trembled a little, rubbing his hands over his face, gritting his teeth against a subtle chill that spilled over from the realm of the dead.

Ansem waited very patiently indeed. As long as he held very still, and lay his spiritual body very close to the drowsing man's, he could almost feel his breathing, and his very loud heartbeat was easier to hear than it ever was, this close. If all went well, soon... he wouldn't need to listen at all. He'd be inside, in touch with every organ system and sensory in-put in his body.


	13. Mr Rin's Letter

Author's Notes: Given the circumstances of this chapter, I wouldn't be surprised if people complained about it... but it's totally random... and I wanted to write in it.

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He was immensely pleased that Cloud was finally more relaxed around him. Sephiroth couldn't have been more excited if he was sure Hikaru was finally gotten rid of.

The corridor echoed with his footsteps as he moved carefully among the statues, toward the window. Outside it was raining heavily, curtains of rain washing back and forth across the street below like liquid phantoms. The spattering of water from the eaves was dulled by the windowpanes and the thick, ancient walls.

Mr. Rin was waiting for him just inside the parlor room where the window shades were open, trying to let in as much light as the storm could allow. Sephiroth found him seated in a luxurious chair, wrapped in an immense blue blanket, his salt-and-pepper hair slightly messed up. His skin looked like yellow powder... Sephiroth paused at the edge of the chairs gathered around a formidable fire in the hearth. The parlor room was immense, with a rising ceiling with rafters and a single chandelier hanging above their heads, reflecting the orange light in its thousands of precious gems. An oriental carpet was on the floor, many dragons guarding the hem and a single star in the middle.

He touched the back of a chair, looking at Mr. Rin.

"You aren't well," Sephiroth murmured quietly. He hardly spoke to his benefactor at all these days - Cloud told him he hadn't been feeling well of late. "Haven't you seen a white magic user?"

"There are none to be found," Mr. Rin wheezed. He shuddered violently as he restrained his coughing to inside his blanket. When he was finished he was that much more flushed, but not in a healthy way. "I wanted to speak with you, and I keep you in confidence on this matter, Sephiroth."

Immediately, the silver-haired man straightened. His eyes sharpened and he nodded stiffly, uncomfortable in the presence of illness.

Mr. Rin said, "Cloud has told you of my sickness. But he hasn't told you that there is no cure for what ails me, boy. It has taken me awhile to understand, but... as I see it, I am very much dying. There is no way to understand the reason for it."

"Mr. Rin--" Sephiroth began, his eyes sparkling with worry.

"Don't worry too much about it. You will take over my business."

"What?! But I am nowhere near qualified to handle such a large business. I don't know the first thing about it. I know you think I may be the perfect candidate, but I'm sorry. I don't think I can do it."

"You're the only candidate." Mr. Rin's gaze hardened slightly. "Cloud could manage it on his own for awhile, but he wouldn't last long without you. As soon as I'm going, I know that you might leave and never come back. You wander far, don't you? To different places..." The man once again broke down into a fitful bout of coughing before he sunk back into his chair and stared hollowly at the ceiling for a few minutes. Finally he reached over to motion toward the end table closest to Sephiroth.

"That is for you and Mr. Strife." Sephiroth took it. "In three days, I want you to open it. Don't open it before, or after that time. Three days, to the hour." Mr. Rin smiled grimly before calmly telling him he could go about his business.

Sephiroth left the room with his numb fingers holding the envelope. It was a plain, yellow envelope sealed with Mr. Rin's business insignia with hot wax to secure it. He wanted to talk to Cloud now... or Ansem. Dearest Light, Ansem wouldn't come now anyway... he was probably too busy preparing for whatever miracle he had in mind to work.

If Mr. Rin was dying and wanted to leave his business to himself and Cloud, it meant that he was to stay here no matter what else happened. It didn't leave much room to deny it. He owed Mr. Rin much, as well, and he would honor his wishes to the best of his ability. But it was so troubling! How long had the manager of the most successful business in the world been sick? Why didn't he tell him how serious it was sooner? Perhaps he didn't know he was dying until recently.

He brushed his hair out of his face as he stepped up to Cloud's bedroom door. He knocked as he slipped the envelope into his deep coat pockets. He waited.

Cloud opened the door. He was wearing a loose-fitting robe, secured with a broad band of the same material, tied in front of him. An ordinary pair of socks covered his feet. His room was slightly messy, Sephiroth noted as he stole a glance around... clothes on the floor, a few books scattered around on the dresser and the nightstand had a few papers on it. Only one corner of the room was clean, and it was dedicated for his working objects, such as his weapon and his outdoor clothes.

Sephiroth looked at Cloud again. Without speaking Cloud reached over to pull him into his room by the arm, nudging the door shut with his foot.

"He told you?" Cloud whispered. His voice reminded him of a dying breeze in autumn. Melancholy. Sephiroth was a little agitated that Cloud was told first, but quickly pushed that foolishness aside.

Sephiroth nodded, reaching to take Cloud's arm whose hand was still holding onto his arm. The blonde's eyes were red and tired, and he had a scent like salt-water from his tears. Sephiroth rubbed his arm for awhile before Cloud pulled it free and cleared his throat with a decidedly bright red blush.

"He was like a father to me," he blurted suddenly. "I've lived here for almost ten years and now... now he's... dying on me already!"

The silver-haired man nudged him over to the bed and sat down next to him, hugging him close. Cloud was now sobbing again with earnest, just as he probably had done for awhile. He'd never known a man to cry so much... except Cloud, a history ago when he was a young SOLDIER candidate. He brushed his fingers through his soft blonde hair, knowing somehow that it ought to comfort him more than anything else. His shirt was slightly damp from where Cloud's breath had puffed against him.

After awhile Cloud became quiet. "Did he say anything?"

"Yes...we're to open this letter in almost exactly three days," Sephiroth replied.

"Can't read it now, obviously," the other answered as his friend presented the packet of paper. Cloud then placed the letter next to the bedstand on top of a pile of booklets. He sighed, cleaning his eyes out with his sleeves. Finally he looked up and smiled nervously at the man. "You going to stick around all night?"

Sephiroth allowed himself to crack one of his infamous, impeccable smirks. He pulled his foot up and slipped off his boot, and followed up with the other..dropping them near the foot of the bed. "Hey, that's not a bad idea."

Cloud smiled back a little, brushing a hand over his blonde hair, tousling it back into what he thought was some semblance of neatness. His contentment was distinct in the slight rise of his eyebrows, the smoothing of the lines that was caused by his emotional troubles. He helped him slip his coat off and hung it on the corner edge of the bed.

Sephiroth slid his body over the blankets, tucking himself comfortable against some of the soft plush pillows, and almost immediately realized how good it felt to lay down and look at Cloud, with honest, understanding eyes. His mind was focused on the letter, but was easily distracted when Cloud made himself comfortable against his side with an arm around his neck. His face was nestled in his shoulder, his eyes closed and his delicate lashes twitching occasionally against his skin.

He knew there was no way he could truly take the pain of Mr. Rin's death away. Cloud would be scarred from it for a long time...just another scar to his collection of emotional trauma. Sephiroth gritted his teeth and stroked the man's back lovingly, and promised to do his best to fill that space in his life that had been so empty for too long, like a drying lake where there had once been innocence and life once upon a time.

Before he knew it, lulling himself with silent reiterations of his oath, he had fallen asleep to the sound of the rain - and Cloud's soft, sweet breath and the thudding of his beautiful heart.


End file.
